Echoes
by Oni-Gil
Summary: The memories of a past life slip through Marluxia's fingers constantly... until he discovers that there is one other resident of Castle Oblivion who can hold onto them for him. And a taste of his memories proves to be... somewhat addicting. MarluxiaZexion
1. Footsteps

A/N: Hello!!! (dodges flying tomatoes) Okay, okay, I should be updating Depths of Oblivion, but I'm NOT. XD I seem to have picked an odd pairing... If it's possible for a pairing to be "stuck in my head," this one is... although 411 is still the best. X3

This and all of my KH fics are written in the same story-verse as Depths of Oblivion... heck, this even has vague spoilers for DoO. But nothing really important, so it doesn't matter.

Rating will most likely rise in later chapters. At present it is rated for blood and mild language.

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**1st Encounter- Footsteps  
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Footsteps were an unusual sound in Castle Oblivion. Why walk when one could open a dark path to their destination? It was pointless to walk for recreational purposes when fighting Heartless provided all the exercise one needed. Walking was done to give one time to think, to take a rest from the dismal half-life of a Nobody, or, in some cases, to stall the arrival at an unpleasant destination.

Now those footsteps sounded as a small figure ascended several flights of stairs, going unnecessarily slowly. He was not looking forward to this meeting at all.

The blue-eyed Nobody stopped before an ornate door, bracing himself. He lifted a hand and knocked twice before entering, without waiting for an answer. He had _that_ right, at least. He wouldn't give his temporary superior any more power than he had to.

The owner of the room had been expecting him. He was sitting… or perhaps the proper term would be "lounging," he thought to himself, summoning up the memory of disgust… in a comfortable-looking chair, legs crossed elegantly, fingers folded in his lap.

"Zexion," he said. "You came. I'm touched."

"As you ordered," the one called Zexion replied stoically.

"And without the caveman, I see," the other added. Irritation briefly crossed Zexion's face.

"Number Eleven, you may be in control of this castle, but Lexaeus is still your superior, and mine. You will not speak of him that way."

Eleven smirked.

"Of course, Number Six." A reminder. A teasing prod. How deplorable. "You'll have to forgive me… I'd almost forgotten."

There was a long silence. Zexion narrowed his eyes.

"Was there any reason you summoned me, Marluxia?" he asked at last, breaking the pause. _Or did you just want another chance to play Superior? _he added silently, carefully resisting the urge to send that thought via his power. Marluxia tilted his head slightly, regarding him with one perfect eyebrow raised.

"I like to keep up with what my subordinates are doing," he said delicately, placing just enough emphasis on the degrading term to make Zexion bristle. He was grateful, for the moment at least, that he couldn't feel anger, or he would have had real trouble in suppressing his sneer.

"Lexaeus has been reinforcing the barriers to keep out unwelcome guests," he reported, as simply as possible. "We've grown… tired of Heartless bursting in at inconvenient moments." _And that was supposed to be Axel's job. Typical._ "Vexen has been making admirable progress in his work with replicas."

"And you?" Marluxia prompted, his eyes drilling into Zexion's. "Not inciting rebellion, are you?"

"_I_ have been researching the importance of memories," Zexion said, his tone as icy as Vexen's when he was annoyed. "As the Superior ordered."

He got some satisfaction from seeing disappointment flit across Marluxia's face.

_You wanted to order me around some more, didn't you? Bastard._

"Memories," Eleven said, his face regaining its naturally emotionless composure. "Interesting. Your own, I'd assume?"

"No," Zexion said flatly, frowning. Marluxia smiled, knowing he had touched a nerve. All of the original six were sensitive about their pasts, but none more so than Zexion.

"Why not?" he asked. "I'm sure you have some interesting memories. I would be glad of a chance to sift through them… seeing as I _have_ been ordered to oversee everyone's work…"

"Don't test me, Marluxia," the Schemer snapped, his eyes locking with the other's. Marluxia's eyes widened and he flinched, feeling an alien presence in his mind.

_Dark, hurt, blood—_

"Zexion! Stop!"

"You wanted to sift through my memories," Six hissed.

_There was a constant ache in his forearms. He could feel the IV drip and felt sick at the thought of it… he would never be able to stand needles, if he ever got out of here. He was burning with fever, whatever disease they had injected him with this time was taking its toll on him. They tried another vaccine, the needle jabbing mercilessly into his arm. This one will work, he promised himself._

_He lay in the dark when they had all left for the night, just staring into the blackness. He could hear the low hum of the machines keeping him alive. When he dreamed, he dreamed of more darkness, and shadows._

_In the morning, they would check his vital signs just to see if his body had given up yet… like so many did… It hadn't. His lung had developed an infection, but then, his lungs weren't doing any work, were they? The machines breathed for him now. All he was was a body to test their would-be vaccines on._

_Sometimes, as he lies awake in the darkness, he can remember snatches of his life before the laboratory: green trees, blue water, a rainbow. Other boys. Small balls of light, no bigger than his fist, which made sounds like tinkling bells. Mermaids. Red-skinned, deep-voiced men. Pirates dressed in rags. A ticking crocodile._

_He can't remember how he's gotten here. Every time he tried, his head hurt with the effort. He invented wild stories in his head, but none of them convinced him. He wanted to ask the lab men, but he had never been able to summon the will to speak to them, or to himself, at least out loud._

_"Mama! Mama! Lia pushed Jean into the pond again and Ara won't help me catch her!"_

_He likes to imagine what he'd say to them, if he could. He hears them talking to each other and learns. He knows what he could say to make them angry, or sad, or guilty. If only he could…_

_"Ara, help Luc, please… I'm busy…"_

_"Yes, Mama…"_

_Even though he knew she was only pretending to be busy, she always insisted she wasn't blind, always said she didn't need him, her oldest son, here to help her. What would she do if he left?_

_"Never grow up, Ienzo, we'll never grow up!"_

_"Yes, Peter!"_

_"Ara, help me! Lia's climbed the apple tree!"_

_Pain, pain from another needle they pushed in._

_Pain, he had tripped, fallen into the rose bushes._

_Rescued. He was saved._

_Elaeus, he said his name was Elaeus— "I can talk, listen to me, Elaeus, I can talk!" –They saved him…_

_Lia was always causing trouble, Jean and Luc were too nice to her just because she was the only girl…_

_"Master Ansem, we need a larger laboratory…" Xehanort wants one. "…if we are to continue…" Xehanort said so. I __hate__ laboratories, I __hate__ them…_

_"Don't stray into the forest, Lia, there are monsters there and I'd have to go in and save you." "Don't let the monsters get you." "Nobody who goes in there ever comes back."_

_Blood, dark, lab… had there been a mistake? The shadows were there, Elaeus had grabbed him, shielding him with his own body. He could see Braig lying nearby in a pool of blood, Dilan and Even in another, and it looked like Dilan had tried to shield Even too, but they were both gone now…_

_Lia, where is Lia, the monsters had taken her and the eyes were closing in, and Elaeus had fallen now and they were reaching for his heart and he screamed, and he would never see Peter or his mother or Ansem or Lia again and it was all lost—_

"Zexion!" Marluxia screamed, as he finally wrenched himself from the tangle of memories, Ienzo's and Aramuil's mixed and pooled into one. His head hurt as though Lexaeus had pounded on it with his tomahawk. He was on his knees, although when he had fallen he didn't know. He was trembling violently, like he'd just had a near-drowning experience.

"Are you so eager to peruse my memories now?" Zexion asked softly. He appeared as calm as ever, unshaken, except for his visible eye, which had gone cold. "Now that you've experienced them? Now that I've experienced yours?"

Marluxia shook his head numbly. The corner of Zexion's lips curved up in a tiny smirk.

"Very good, Number Eleven," he said. He turned and, without another glance, left the master of Castle Oblivion on the floor, listening to the receding footsteps.

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A/N: Okay, it was SO weird to write in three different tenses at once in the memories. D8 

Since I _am_ going to be continuing with this story, reviews are much appreciated!!! (hint hint)


	2. Hunger

**A/N:** Before anyone gets hopeful, this is an unusually fast update, for me. u.u I generally try to update once a week. Just so you know. :3**  
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** Encounter 2- Hunger  
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_…interesting that the strength of one's heart matters so much in the life of a Nobody. Why should we be affected by something we lack? Perhaps it is because a stronger hearts is equivalent to stronger memories, and memories are the most essential element in the half-life of a Nobo_

"Yes?"

Marluxia was impressed at how well Zexion managed to sound annoyed. It was typical, he had notices, for the newer members of the Organisation to be better at pretending they had emotions than the older members. Of course, the first six had more practice, which may have compensated for their fading memories. As it was, Marluxia supposed that any of them would have made the same reaction if he had intruded into any of their personal quarters as he had into Zexion's.

He realized that Zexion had been waiting for an answer and blinked.

"Ah," he said, backpedaling while he tried briefly to remember his purpose here. "I…" He regained his footing and let his face fall into a relaxed smirk. Suave. Confident. Yes.

"I just wanted to speak with you… unless, of course, your work from the Superior—" He frowned inwardly. _I won't have to call him that for much longer, at least._ "—is too pressing?"

"Very well. My work is too pressing," Zexion replied, without missing a beat. Marluxia chuckled.

"In that case, I order you to take a break," he said, moving closer. It was impolite to lurk in doorways, after all. Zexion's eyes narrowed and his nose flared as he glanced up from his work, turning halfway in his chair to face Marluxia.

"Nice try, Number Eleven," he said dryly. "But my orders come from the Superior: researching the importance—"

"—of memories, yes, yes, I know," Marluxia interrupted, waving a hand in the air impatiently. "Yes. But what if I volunteered to help you?" A crease appeared between Zexion's eyebrows.

"I'm sure that you have other duties to attend to," he answered. "And I need no help, besides."

"Whose memories are you using?" Marluxia asked, drawing a bit closer.

"Sora's, of course," Zexion said. "Naminé is helping me."

"How perfectly boring," the Assassin responded, faking a gentlemanly yawn. Zexion's frown deepened.

"I see nothing wrong with using the Keybearer's memories for our research," he contradicted. "since we have Naminé to sort through them for us."

Marluxia was pacing now, closing in slowly.

"Shouldn't we be concentrating on something that will actually _help_ us?" he asked. As Zexion opened his mouth to argue, he added, "That is to say, study the memories of a Nobody."

"Then Naminé won't be able to help, unless we use Roxas, which would be a fairly pointless exercise, since we have Sora in our hands already.

"We don't need Naminé," Marluxia reminded him. Zexion looked for a moment like he had a good argument ready.

"Besides Naminé, there is no one with the ability to find lost memories," he said, but he sounded uncertain. He glared at the taller Nobody. "You can't mean that…"

"Have you forgotten already, Zexion?" Marluxia asked quietly. He stood close enough to reach out and touch the Schemer now, close enough to look down on him. "You found my memories. You showed me things _I_ didn't even remember."

"That…" Zexion faltered. Then he scowled. "That was an accident. And besides, I don't know of any Nobody who I could—"

"Me."

Zexion hated having to crane his neck to look into Marluxia's face… the Assassin wasn't even all that tall, for goodness' sake… but he wasn't going to show any signs of discomfort.

"You," he confirmed flatly.

"Yes, me," Marluxia repeated. Zexion shivered inwardly at the hunger in Eleven's eyes. "Use me in your research. It was you who gave me the first taste, and it should be you who…"

"I told you," the smaller Nobody said evenly. "That was an accident. I don't know how it happened, and I can't simply reach into your mind and find things that you can't remember. It isn't that simple."

Marluxia bent down to be at his eye level: another teasing poke at their current relative heights. For a moment, Zexion considered standing, if only to enjoy a few seconds of being taller than someone who wasn't Roxas. But he knew the other Nobody would just straighten, and then it would be worse.

"You know better than to lie to your superiors, Number Six," the Assassin said softly.

"What do you mean?" Zexion replied, not flinching at the frivolous disregard of his rank. Marluxia smiled, flashing perfectly white teeth.

"When Larxene first joined the Organisation, she couldn't even remember her name when the Superior asked. Yet somehow, just a few seconds later, you were able to tell us what it was," he said. "Two accidents? You're too much of a perfectionist for that, Zexion."

Zexion scowled. He had forgotten that Marluxia had been there when he had discovered Larxene's name. Eleven leaned closer, still giving him that predatory grin.

"It won't hurt to try again, will it?" he asked. "Just to see if you can manage it? Consider it research, hmm?"

_"Please, Mama? Just this once?"_

_"No, Ara. I'm sorry."_

_"But, Mama!"_

_"I can't run this family on my own, Ara!" she insisted… the same thing every year. "I need you here. I need your help!"_

_She would never, never admit to her blindness, never confess that weakness._

_"It's only for three days, Mama. Couldn't I just—"_

_"Three days is too long, Ara. I'm sorry. I wish you could go, but… ever since your father—"_

_He screamed as they injected another infection into him, and this one _burned_, and it hurt so much…_

"There," Zexion said, turning back to his work with a shudder. "Now leave me alone."

Marluxia stood staring at the back of his head for a long moment, still paralyzed in the aftermath of the vision. He hadn't expected Ienzo's memories to interfere again.

"That's it?" he asked at last, summoning the memory of anger. "That's all you can give me?" he demanded, gripping Zexion's shoulder and pulling the smaller Nobody around to face him, chair and all. The Schemer's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Unhand me, Eleven," he hissed. "It's not as simple as it seems to reach into your memory. I can't do it on a whim. _Leave me alone_."

Marluxia did not let go.

"I want to _know_," he said, and he couldn't keep a bit of desperation from entering his voice. "About my family. My father, my homeworld. I want to know how Aramuil lost his heart. I want to know _everything_.

There was no emotion in Zexion's visible eye. _Of course not,_ Marluxia chided himself. _With no heart, he can't feel pity._

"Unhand me," Zexion repeated softly.

"Can you even feel want?" Marluxia wondered aloud. "If I am a Nobody for as long as you have been, will I lose _tha_t too?"

Zexion impatiently tried to brush his hand off, but the larger Nobody persisted.

"You understand, I know you do," Marluxia said insistently. "I _know_ you do. Ienzo wanted to know about his own past, didn't he?"

The Schemer stood, wrenching his shoulder out of Marluxia's grasp.

"Don't say that name," he growled. He pointed at the door. "Leave."

He knew he really shouldn't take such an order from someone who was supposed to be his subordinate, but right now, Marluxia realized it would perhaps be more prudent to leave. He summoned a portal, but did not step through.

"Ienzo would have asked the same thing," he said. Zexion bared his teeth and struck at him, but Marluxia had already stepped backwards and disappeared. The portal closed behind him with a whisper, leaving him alone once more.

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**A/N:** Reviews make happy writers. Happy writers come from California. XD Just kidding...

But seriously, please review... or Zexion will give you nightmares for a week. X3


	3. Headache

**A/N:** Bad, Gil, Bad! Write chapter 8 of Depths of Oblivion already!

But... but... this story is so much fun... T.T

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**Encounter 3- Headache  
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Marluxia awoke from a well-deserved rest feeling like he hadn't slept at all. His head was spinning uncomfortably. The flashes of memory Zexion had given him had taunted him in his dreams, pulling him forward, following in Aramuil's footsteps, hearing the laughter of children from the darkness.

His headache did not improve. Axel faked pity when he told him, and Larxene just smirked and quoted some rather dubious methods of healing. The Dusks didn't help matters. Their presences lingered at the corner of his mind, prodding carefully until he snapped at them.

He sulked for most of the morning (at least, he thought it was morning. The time was impossible to judge in these worlds in-between), debating whether or not he should go pester Vexen just to vent some steam. That, he decided at last, would inevitably make his migraine worse. He knew he should really go to Zexion to get it taken care of, but if the Schemer was still angry… well, half-angry… about his words yesterday, that would _not_ be the wisest idea. Even so…

Marluxia knew that memories were the entire foundation of a Nobody's existence. The subconscious memories of emotion allowed them to pretend to the rest of the world that they had hearts. Their instincts led them to act and react like ordinary people. People with hearts.

He also knew that different members of the Organisation had retained different memories. Most of the original six remembered everything. No Nobody knew how much Xemnas really remembered about his life "before." Saïx was mysterious; he never said whether or not he knew anything about his Other. Axel knew everything about his Somebody and the world he had lived in. Demyx retained about half, as did Luxord. Larxene's and Roxas's were like blank slates. As for Marluxia himself, he knew only his Other's name. The rest was just like this castle… empty.

Since joining the Organisation, Marluxia had tried anything and everything to regain his lost memories, but nothing had come back to him. Yet in the space of a few minutes, Zexion had been able to find out more about Aramuil than Marluxia had ever known.

The Assassin had developed a taste for his memories now. Even at this moment, he couldn't stop thinking about what Zexion had shown him: his home, his family, himself. In addition, he had to admit that he was growing curious about Ienzo's forgotten past, before the lab.

If Zexion could find Marluxia's memory, why shouldn't Marluxia try to do the same for him?

Finally, Marluxia decided that he would pay Naminé a visit. She was quieter than Axel or Larxene, and would probably help him with his headache if he asked. It was with this happy prospect in mind that he opened a portal straight to her chamber. Some of the papers on her table rustled as it closed, and he looked around to see her sitting silently in her straight-backed chair, drawing again.

Naturally, Zexion was there too.

_Just my luck._

Zexion's visible eye narrowed as he looked up from Naminé's drawing to see the other Nobody.

"Marluxia," he said quietly.

"Zexion," Marluxia answered, drawing himself up. _After all, why not?_ he asked himself. He had proven his worth, earning this post as Lord of Castle Oblivion. Why should he be afraid of a subordinate? "Just the Nobody I was looking for."

"How fortunate," Zexion replied. "I was looking for you as well."

Marluxia hid his surprise well by bowing to Naminé. He had assumed that Zexion would be avoiding him like the plague now.

"Sorry, princess," he said, "but we must leave you now."

He raised a hand to open a portal, but then Zexion was beside him.

"Allow me," he said, with a mocking half-bow. Marluxia considered opening the portal anyway— he knew Zexion was acting out of defiance rather than respect— but he allowed the smaller Nobody to summon the corridor of darkness instead. It turned out to open up into a hallway several levels down from Naminé's room.

"What did you want?" Zexion asked, without preamble.

"No, no," Marluxia said, the very picture of gracious nobility. "I shall attend to your problem first, of course."

"It's not so much a problem as… an acceptance," the Schemer said, not changing his slightly thoughtful expression. "I made my report to the Superior yesterday, detailing our progress in our various goals."

_That_ made Marluxia freeze up for a moment, trying not to seem guilty as he buried his thoughts beneath an iron wall. It was difficult to hide a conspiracy from a man who could read minds with the same ease as he read his books. Perhaps that was why the Superior had assigned Zexion to Oblivion. Xemnas seemed to know everything, expect everything, damn him. He quickly herded his thoughts away from that direction as Zexion went on.

"I also brought up your concerns about my research," he said. Marluxia blinked.

"You did?" _You actually acknowledged me?_

Zexion narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at the interruption.

"I was confident that he would see how foolish it was." Zexion sighed, then said, "Unfortunately, the Superior agreed with you."

Marluxia, who had been expecting a reprimand, stared.

"He did?"

Zexion nodded reluctantly.

"In fact," he muttered, "he went so far as to order me to begin using a Nobody as my test subject. I had hoped to use Larxene, with your permissio—"

"No," Marluxia snapped. "You will use me."

"Number Eleven, as Lord of this castle, I'm sure you have many other pressing duties to attend to," Zexion argued, but the Assassin took his arm in an iron grip.

"No," Marluxia repeated softly. He was holding Zexion's arm hard enough to bruise, and they were standing so close together that the smaller Nobody had to crane his neck to continue looking into the other's eyes. This caused his hair to slide back, exposing his entire face, and he suddenly felt terribly exposed.

"Very well," he conceded, hoping desperately that Marluxia would let him go, which he did. Zexion exhaled slowly; he hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breath, tense and ready for… what?

"Is that why you were seeking me out?" he asked. Marluxia blinked, suddenly remembering that he had a migraine.

"Actually, no," he said. "I have a headache, you see. I heard you were the one to come to."

For a moment, Zexion looked annoyed. Then he relented.

"Of course," he said, lifting his hands. His fingers were pleasantly cool against Marluxia's temples, and the Assassin let his eyes flutter shut, relaxing.

It still felt strange, as it had the first two times, to have Zexion's mind in his own, to feel his presence moving over the surface, not into it as he had gone the other times. Zexion brushed his consciousness softly, almost like a lover, and Marluxia shivered under the touch. The Schemer was skilled at his work, and he soon located all the sensitive points. It felt _good_, Marluxia registered, as Zexion worked at those spots, his invisible fingers massaging gently as the pain flowed slowly nut surely out of him.

_A cool cloth was draped over his forehead when he awoke._

_"What…?" he tried to ask, but his speech was slurred from exhaustion._

_"Shh," the girl sitting beside him whispered, stroking his sweat-dampened hair from his face. "You need to rest. Your fever's broken, but you're still in danger. Can you go back to sleep, Aramuil?"_

_He let himself drift off, hearing her whispering his name from time to time in a reassuring manner._

Zexion trembled and nearly fell, but Marluxia caught him.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, leaning against the larger Nobody for a moment, before recovering his composure. "I didn't mean for that to happen. The headache was more stubborn than I thought… perhaps it was an aftermath of my carelessness the first time… I almost lost track of things…"

He straightened up and brushed off his clothes, as though touching Marluxia had made them dirty. His dignity renewed, he turned to the pink-haired Nobody.

"I expect to see you in my office at this time tomorrow," he said. Marluxia was about to protest this obvious order, but Zexion fixed him with an intensely blue stare. "My research, my rules," he said softly. "Tomorrow."

He didn't look at Marluxia again as he opened a portal and vanished into it.

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Please review, it means a lot! 


	4. Echoes

** A/N**: Wow, I think this is the longest chapter so far. The longest in all, I suspect, will be chapter 12. (The fic will be 13 chapters long. I thought that was fitting, don't you?) But I can't tell you what happens then, anyway. Neener neener neener. :P I've found a strategy for using Roman numerals and numbers: after the word "Number," I type it out (Number Six, Number Eleven). Otherwise, Roman numerals (VI, XI). Ta-daaaa!

You guys are so great. I didn't think this story would do so well, but people seem to like it, incredibly enough! It's disappointing that I can't reply to anonymous reviews (I feel uncomfortable using their e-mail addresses, how pathetic is that?), because you two gave me such wonderful reviews that I want to hug you. Thank you, anyway. XD I'm glad you approve.

But you didn't click the link to hear me ramble. On with the fic!

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x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

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** Encounter 4- Echoes  
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Zexion wanted to feel frustrated.

He wanted to scream, to rage, to throw chairs around, to have a tantrum. Without a heart, however, that was impossible. Ienzo had never been one to throw a tantrum, anyway.

He sulked instead, burying his nose in a book and not responding when Lexaeus tried to get him to eat something. So concentrated on the memory of anger was he that he had to read the words on the page three times over before comprehending.

It was Marluxia's fault, he had decided. The insufferable man's memory was practically _magnetic_. Admittedly, he had lied to the Assassin about the first time, but it really _had_ been accidental the third. He had been repairing the damage from his original carelessness, but something inexplicable had drawn him, resulting in yet another dip into Aramuil's life. Worse, he had been unexpectedly shaky when he pulled out of the memory, shaky enough to have to cling to the other Nobody. The weakness itself had been bad, but vastly more humiliating had been the need to hold desperately on to _Marluxia_, of all people. The mere memory of it made him growl at the unassuming book.

Damn the Superior for ordering him to research the memories of a Nobody. In fact, damn him for assigning Zexion to Oblivion at all.

Yet, that didn't change anything, so here he was in his "office" exactly twenty-four hours after yesterday's unfortunate incident, and here was the Graceful Assassin, smiling at him in that infuriating way.

"You seem amaze that I'm here on time, VI."

Yet again, that condescending attitude. If he had a heart, Zexion was sure he would loathe Marluxia with all of it.

"You're not here to chat, Number Eleven," he reminded the other Nobody. "We have a job to do."

"And I am greatly looking forward to it," Marluxia replied smoothly, his smug grin growing just a bit wider. "Where shall we start?"

"At the beginning," Zexion said. "It's always easiest for me to find the memories that were closest to you… that is to say, your name, your family, and your homeworld. I was going to start with your homeworld. When Xigbar found you, he reported that your world had been almost completely overrun by Heartless, yet since the Key-Bearer defeated the false Ansem, it must have been restored. This would make your memories a valuable asset if the Superior is to consider taking any action on your world."

"I see," Marluxia murmured. "Well, that makes good sense." He glanced around the small room that passed as Zexion's workspace. "Aren't you going to have me sit down?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Zexion scowled, narrowing his eyes. He gestured at the nearest chair, and Marluxia sat primly. The Schemer pulled up a chair for himself.

"Yes, but only because there may be some weakness following my experiment," he replied. Marluxia grinned up at him from over his hands, on which he was resting his chin.

"Like how you had to lean on me yesterday?" he asked. Zexion couldn't quite conceal his embarrassed flush, but ducked his head slightly to hide it with his hair.

"Like how you collapsed the very first time," he countered. Marluxia leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows coming together in annoyance. Then his face smoothed out into a vague sort of amusement.

"Touché," he breathed. He raised an eyebrow again. "Shall we begin, then? Just tell me what to do."

Zexion snorted softly.

"You should be grateful, XI," he said coldly. "My performance would not be altered no matter what you did. I _could_ dig into your mind without any consideration for your comfort at all, but I'm in a good mood today—or I _was_— so I'll make this easier on you."

He moved his chair closer to Marluxia's, although the smell of flowers which lingered about him was nearly overwhelming to his sensitive nose at this close range.

"Since this is for research purposes, I'll have to be a bit more careful about my methods," he explained. "Your mind's natural instinct is to fight any intrusion, but you have to accept it. If you relax, there won't be a residual headache later."

As he reached towards Marluxia's face, XI asked, "So does the physical contact make it easier?"

"On me, no. I've already said that my abilities aren't affected by outside influences like that," Zexion said distractedly, brushing rose-colored bangs aside and resting his fingers on Marluxia's temples. "But some claim that it helps them to relax."

"Some?" the Assassin inquired, raising one eyebrow. "Do you often go into other people's minds?"

"On Xemnas' orders," Zexion said shortly, "I sometimes… speed negotiations along."

Marluxia smirked at the hesitation.

"In other words?"

"The Superior," Zexion said, choosing his words with care, "uses my talents as a tool to achieve his— that is to say, the Organisation's— ends. It is not for me to question what he uses me for."

"But I doubt you ever need to touch those people," Marluxia pointed out. "Xemnas couldn't care less about their comfort."

"No," Zexion admitted. "Sometimes, however, other members of the Organisation seek me out for healing, as you did yesterday. I've been told that the physical contact helps."

"It's true," Marluxia said, closing his eyes as the first hints of Zexion's power slipped into him. "Your touch is very… soothing." With his eyes shut, he missed the Schemer's blush, but something subtle changed in the feeling of Zexion's mind exploring his own.

_This may take some time,_ VI murmured in his mind. _I'm going to try and find locations that have struck you as familiar and go on from there._

_All right,_ Marluxia responded, as Zexion carefully delved deeper.

_Trees, blue sky, wide pastures…_

"There," he whispered aloud. The touch of the Schemer's fingers increased fractionally. The odd sensation of Zexion's mind filling his own grew more intense, and then—

He was standing in bright sunlight and instinctively raised his arm to shield his eyes. The smell of wildflowers filled his nose and he breathed deeply, taking the time to enjoy it before looking around at his location. It was a quaint little farm in a valley surrounded by mountains. A forest bordered it on two sides, a dark, deep forest that made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He could sense the darkness inside.

"Is this at all familiar?"

Marluxia jumped and turned to see the Zexion was standing next to him, also looking around.

"Yes," he answered, with another glance around him. The farmhouse and barn were right were he expected them, and he was quite sure that he recognized the apple tree in front. "How are you doing this?"

Zexion looked smug.

"This world is an illusion I created using the memories from your subconscious," he explained. "It was fairly simple, actually. Tell me what you remember about this world."

Marluxia took a few steps this way and that, taking in familiar sights.

"There's a village that way," he said, pointing towards a dusty road. "A lake over that hill." He gazed at the forest, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine. "There are stories of a castle deep in there," he said, dropping his voice as though confessing a secret. A hand on his arm startled him.

"That forest," Zexion said, nodding his head towards it. "I can sense your unease. Is that the place where Aramuil lost his heart?"

Marluxia snorted.

"Stupid, he was," he said, although to his surprise, his voice came out rougher than he had expected. "He could have escaped. He made a foolish choice." He held up a hand to stave off further inquisition. "Don't ask, that's all I can remember."

Laughter made both of them turn to the field. Three young children were playing there, two boys and a girl. One of the boys was a brunet. The other boy and the girl were blonde. All three had the same blue eyes.

"Aramuil's siblings?" Zexion asked.

"Jean, Luc, and Lia," Marluxia replied. He opened his mouth again, but Zexion cut him off.

"Before you ask, they can't see or hear us. We don't exist, to them."

Even after this assurance, Marluxia jumped when Lia cried, "Ara! Ara!" and the three children ran towards them.

"Zexion—"

He gasped as the blond boy, Luc, ran right through him.

"I told you," Zexion said. "We don't exist here. We're ghosts, you might say."

They turned to see the children swarming around a handsome young man with brown hair and blue eyes. There was a pang in Marluxia's chest.

"Is that Aramuil?" Zexion asked softly. Marluxia nodded. "I thought so. You kept his eyes."

Marluxia shrugged.

"I suppose I did."

"The castle you spoke of," Zexion murmured. "Can you remember any of those stories people used to tell?"

Marluxia frowned. "No," he said at last. Zexion hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, it's a pity we can't go and investigate."

"Why not?" Marluxia asked.

"This is your memory. Am I correct in saying that you never went into the forest?" VI inquired. Marluxia smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Only once."

"When you lost your heart," Zexion clarified. The Assassin nodded shortly.

"I don't remember it, exactly."

"From what I found, your sister's heart was taken too," the Schemer said. When this got no response but a stony silence, he turned to survey the world around them. Perhaps it could be used for the Organisation's ends later.

"Very good, XI," he said at last. "Time to go."

Marluxia frowned in disappointment, but resignedly turned to the Schemer.

"All right."

Quite suddenly, the field, the farm, and the mountains all disappeared. Marluxia stared into the darkness, trying to see through it. Was this supposed to happen?

Then the screaming began.

He recognized it immediately, of course. He had heard it enough through someone else's memory in the past two days.

The darkness crept back just enough for him to see a dim room, a cold, metal, lifeless room filled with colored indicator lights and buttons and men in white coats. In the middle of the room was a table, and strapped to the table, bucking and writhing and screaming, was a boy.

Ienzo's skin was just as pale as Zexion's, but it seemed more so because the hair which fell into his face was as black as ebony. His eyes, when they opened briefly between shrieks of agony, were also black, as dark and deep as the night sky.

"Zexion, what…" Marluxia began as he rounded on the other. The young Nobody was standing frozen, his eyes wide with fear and pain, his mouth open slightly as though he were ready to say something, but no sound was forthcoming.

"Zexion?" Marluxia asked, taking Zexion's shoulder's and shaking him lightly. "Zexion, come on! Zexion!"

The Schemer made no sign that he had heard or even felt XI. He continued to stare past him at the boy on the table, echoes of remembered terror shining in his eyes. Marluxia tried again to shake Zexion out of his trance, but it was no use.

Cursing all mind-mages, Marluxia thought quickly. He wrapped his arms tightly around VI's trembling form, concentrating withal his might on green trees, blue sky, yellow wildflowers, and the laughter of children.

He felt a tug on his mind, and suddenly they were back in the warmth and light of the memory of his homeworld. Marluxia drew slightly away from Zexion, squeezing his shoulders. The Schemer sucked in a ragged gasp, looking around wildly before his eyes settled on those of the other Nobody.

"Are you all right?" Marluxia asked. "You got kind of… scary for a second there."

Zexion shook himself, and XI let go of his shoulders.

"I…" he said, and it came out as a pathetic whisper. He cleared his throat with a cough, then tried again. "I'm sorry… I really don't know how that happened, I'm sorry… I…"

He was trembling violently, Marluxia noted. Hesitantly, he took the smaller form into his arms again. He thought he could understand Lexaeus' strong loyalty to this young man who was so much weaker than he. There was something about Zexion that made Marluxia want to protect him, to hold him tight and assure him that everything would be all right.

"Do you want to stay here for a while, or should we go?" he asked softly. Zexion rested against him.

"Elaeus," he said weakly. Marluxia felt a sudden surge of what he could almost call jealousy.

"Are you all right to take us back?" he asked, keeping his voice even. Zexion nodded, and a moment of confusion later, Marluxia found that he was back in Oblivion, still in the chair Zexion had provided for him. VI's fingers dropped from his face. "Do you need anything?" he inquired, slightly concerned.

"Elaeus," the young Nobody murmured again. "Please, I want Lexaeus."

"I'll fetch him for you," Marluxia promised, standing. He was proud that he only stumbled once or twice on his way to the room where he expected to find Lexaeus and Vexen. The long trip into his and Zexion's memories had tired him, as he had anticipated.

IV and V were indeed where he had expected them to be.

"Zexion needs you," he said to Lexaeus, and the massive man stood and left without a word.

"What have you done to him now?" Vexen sneered. Marluxia gave him his best haughty glare.

"Number Six and I were conducting an experiment which produced unexpected results," he explained, using overly scientific terms for the Academic's benefit.

"You, conduct an experiment?" Vexen snorted, his lips twisting into an amused smirk-grin. "Number Eleven, given your obvious distaste for science, you can't expect me to believe…"

"Forgive me for saying so, Number Four, but I actually don't care whether you believe it or not. Your opinion is irrelevant. You should get used to it," Marluxia said, interrupting him smoothly. The sweep of vicious pleasure he took at the look on Vexen's face was almost enough to banish the shadow of envy.

"Of course," the scientist said through gritted teeth, his gloved hands clenching into fists. "If you'll excuse me, some of us have _real_ research to attend to."

Marluxia stood listlessly as the other swept out. What brief amusement tormenting Vexen had given him was already fading, leaving only discomfort and resentment. It was only natural for Zexion to want Lexaeus, and only Lexaeus, around in his state, but still…

Even as he opened the corridor of darkness back to his rooms, Marluxia could not cast the memory of the boy writhing on the table from his mind.

Ienzo's screams rang in his ears as he stepped into the darkness.

* * *

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

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**A/N:** D'oh. I couldn't help but sneak in my true loyalty (411 forever! XD)... if you squint...

A couple of words in there and the last bit with Vexen are a tip o' the hat to the wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Silvestris, whose birthday is tomorrow. Google the name. You'll find her and her wonderful Kingdom Hearts (specifically, Organisation XIII) art/fics. :D

Review or Marluxia will nick your knickers!!! XD


	5. Why

**A/N:** Sorry about the long wait... I had to kick my muses. That got the first third of this done, and I didn't get them going until this morning, when I decided to take a slightly different approach to the chapter. It worked. u.u

Enjoy!**  
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** Encounter 5- ****Why  
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At last, the carefully bred and cultivated flowers were coaxed into full bloom by his power as he knelt beside the plot, burying his bare fingers in the slightly damp soil. Marluxia sat back onto his haunches, admiring his work. Before him bloomed a patch of yellow wildflowers, replicas crafted from what he could remember of his homeland. Just one more thing to thank Zexion for later. 

XI straightened, stretching. He had been working since yesterday, breeding wildflowers between monitoring Naminé and filling in paperwork. A leader's job was never done; when he was Superior, he mused as he pulled on his gloves, that would be the first thing to change.

"Marluxia."

The Assassin jumped, trying not to look guilty, and turned to see a hulking form step out of a portal nearby.

"Lexaeus," he said, forcing a smile and battling down the uncomfortable almost-envy which still lingered. "What can I do for you?"

"Leave Zexion alone," Lexaeus said shortly. "He will not admit it, but he can't delve into the memories of others without suffering his own. I cannot allow it."

"Unfortunately, the Superior is the one who ordered this research," Marluxia replied, smirking. "You'll just have to bring it up with him."

"_You_ will bring it up with him," Lexaeus rumbled. "You are, after all, the master of affairs in this castle."

"Why would I put a stop to such beneficial research?"

Lexaeus scowled.

"For Zexion's sake, you will."

Marluxia's smirk grew somewhat as he raised an eyebrow.

"And you thought that I would be more willing to listen to Lexaeus?" he asked. "An admirable effort, but next time you want to persuade me, come as yourself. Is that really so humiliating, Zexion?"

_Hardly as humiliating as being caught in the act,_ he figured silently, as the illusion faded away, leaving a very annoyed-looking Zexion.

"How could you tell?" VI asked. Marluxia half-bowed, very pleased with himself and not afraid to show it.

"Perhaps I am more clever than you give me credit for." He winked. "Lexaeus always uses numbers. You, however, have lately taken to calling me by name, for some reason or another," he explained. "And no, I will not stop the research. Would you _really_ like to ask the Superior to change his mind?"

He saw Zexion flinch. Xemnas was unpredictable at any time, and he would be most unhappy if VI compromised this project. He had gambled that Zexion would not be willing to place his very existence on the line, and that gamble had paid off.

_Good grief, I'm starting to think like Luxord,_ he thought with a little inward smile as Zexion's hands clenched into fists.

"Fine," he hissed. He turned to leave, raising a hand as though to summon the darkness.

"Zexion!" Marluxia called, and the smaller man paused. XI hesitated, bewildered, wondering why he had called VI back. "What will you be searching for today?" he asked finally.

"I think we'll focus on your… on Aramuil's, that is… family," Zexion said, after a moment of contemplation. Marluxia regarded him for a moment. All traces of yesterday's weakness had vanished, leaving him stoic once more.

Was that a mask, he wondered? Did Zexion, too, lie awake at night, trying desperately to feel? When he was alone, did he also break down and despair? Was there ever a time when Zexion had felt that empty ache in his chest, felt Ienzo just beneath the surface, clawing to get out? Was there another side to him, one only Lexaeus was allowed to see?

"What's the point?" he asked at last. Zexion blinked.

"Beg pardon?"

"Why are you researching memories at all?" Marluxia clarified. "What is Xemnas trying to do?"

Zexion gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head and looked away.

"Don't ask me to try and comprehend the Superior," he said. "His motives are beyond any of us."

"Even you?" Marluxia asked, amazed and mystified. He had always viewed the "original" six as a close-knit group, all-knowing, keeping secrets great and powerful from the neophytes. But apparently the Superior was a secret in himself, a mystery that not even the other five could solve.

"Even I," Zexion confirmed. He hesitated, then went on slowly. "Xehanort was always… strange. He and Ienzo were… close, but he was always… well, distant. Xemnas in the same way. He's searching for something, but he won't tell us what it is."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"Xehanort claimed to have no memory of who he was before our master took him in," Zexion told him. Marluxia scrambled to recall what he knew about the elders. All he knew was that they had been scientists conducting some sort of dangerous research, and that numerous men named Ansem were somehow involved. It was all very confusing, and he never really thought about it. "Perhaps he merely wishes to find a way to regain his lost memories, but with Xemnas, you can never tell. There's always a double motive."

"You said he _claimed_ to have no memory," XI realized. "Do you think he was lying?"

Zexion's face was unreadable.

"Perhaps," he replied. "We have no way of knowing. But there are… certain things that he does, which make me think that perhaps… he really does remember. There is a room—"

Zexion was interrupted by a portal opening between them. Axel stepped through, glancing around and taking in the two of them.

"So sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "Have I interrupted something?"

"No," Zexion said shortly. It was clear he wasn't going to discuss Xemnas or Xehanort around Axel. "I was just leaving."

He turned to call the darkness, but Axel reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Don't be so rushed," he said, grinning. "Stay and chat a while."

"Release me, Number Eight," Zexion said coldly. Axel let go and stepped back, raising his hand in a "don't hurt me," gesture, his smile still plastered firmly on his face. "You've been shirking your duties."

Axel placed a hand over his nonexistent heart, feigning hurt.

"Me?" he asked, the picture of innocence. "Never. I've always been loyal to the Organisation." Marluxia smirked as the secret joke passed between them. Zexion appeared not to notice. "And I _always_ follow orders."

"Then why is Lexaeus doing your job?" Zexion asked coolly. Axel raised an eyebrow, and Marluxia responded for him.

"Because I ordered him to," he replied. "Axel has been relieved of his duties, and is helping to prepare the castle for the arrival of the Key-Bearer."

Zexion turned and shot him a furious glare. Again, Marluxia was impressed at how well he retained the memory of emotion. VI opened his mouth as though to say something, but the Assassin tilted his head haughtily and he closed it again. Without a word, he summoned a portal and left. The moment the corridor closed, Axel's grin faded away, leaving his thin face twisted with annoyance.

"Now, I know that when we take the Organisation, we're supposed to take them alive," he murmured, "but in _his_ case…"

"Don't you touch him," Marluxia snapped, suddenly swamped with the memory of fury. Axel looked at him oddly.

"Getting a little possessive, are we?" he asked, his grin returning. This time, however, it had a sinister edge to it. Marluxia didn't like that smile at all. He stepped closer to the other man threateningly.

"When the time comes, leave Zexion to me," he snarled. "He's mine."

Axel's eyes flickered with something inscrutable, but he bowed.

"As you wish," he said. Marluxia turned away, but still caught the redhead's added mutter of "Hypocrite." He gave Axel his best imperious glare over his shoulder, and VIII shrugged, looking around. "Hey, if you want to kill him yourself, go for it," he said. "Unless you wanted to keep him as some strange little play-toy, that is."

It was _just_ like Number Eight, Marluxia thought with an internal sigh, as Axel grew bored with his silence and left.

But the question was a serious one, one which he had not fully pondered. What _would _he do with Zexion when they overthrew the Superior? He really _should_ kill him; VI's power was frighteningly strong and could easily be turned against the usurpers. And yet… Marluxia knew that he would never, ever find any other way to regain his lost past.

_I'll keep him until his usefulness runs out,_ he decided. _Then… I'll dispose of him. That's the only sensible thing to do, a good plan. _It w_as_ a sensible plan, he knew.

Then why, why did it pain him to imagine Zexion's death?

* * *

**A/N:** Because you liiiiiiiike him! XD 

Ahem. No fun memory-stuff in this one, but trust me, I'll make it up to you in chapter... um, seven, I think. If all goes as planned. Which it will, because it always does. 8D

Every time a reader fails to press the magic review button, Marluxia kills a kitten. Please. Think of the kittens. 8D


	6. Silence

** A/N:** Heh heh, betcha didn't expect such a quick update. Here's a secret: I didn't either. XD Well, I cracked down on it and here it is, scarcely... um, two or three days later.

You won't get so lucky next time... chapter 7 is going to be long.

Here you are!**  
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**Encounter 6- Silence  
**

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"Well?" Vexen asked, with a smirk that was none-too-kind. "How did it go?"

"Shut it, Vexen," Zexion snarled as the portal closed behind him. The taller man pretended to be affronted.

"Not well, I take it," he persisted. With a bad-tempered flick of his hand, VI sent the papers Vexen was working on cascading to the floor. Ignoring the Academic's squawks of protest, he headed for his own quarters. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lexaeus stand and follow him, but he didn't care to stop him. He had long since accepted the bulky man's near-constant companionship.

Zexion settled himself at his desk as Lexaeus shut the door behind them. Without a word he seized a pen and paper and began his next report to the Superior. He was so used to the silence that he jumped when Lexaeus spoke.

"That wasn't very kind to Vexen," he said reproachfully. Zexion sighed.

"I was annoyed at the neophytes," he said.

"Then why take it out on Vexen?" Lexaeus asked. "He has enough on his plate without you making things more difficult."

It was hard to make Zexion sheepish; only Lexaeus could possibly have managed it.

"I'll apologize later," he said with an embarrassed shrug. V's heavy hand rested on his shoulder, and he flinched. "I promise," he added, not caring how childish he sounded. It was all right to act his age around Lexaeus. The large Nobody squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, then let go.

"What did Marluxia say?" he asked. Zexion sighed, leaning back in his chair and giving up the useless attempt at a report.

"What else," he said resignedly. "He refused, naturally. E said to bring it up with the Superior, if I was so—"

"I will not allow that," Lexaeus rumbled, his voice low and threatening.

"I wasn't going to," Zexion agreed fervently, shivering.

"He has threatened you with violence, and worse, before," the Hero reminded him.

"I know," Zexion snapped. "I don't care to reflect on it, thank you."

There was a moment heavy with words unsaid. Zexion didn't need to go into Lexaeus' mind to feel the concern radiating from him. V could be very protective of him at times.

"I'll not go to Xemnas," he said at last.

"What will you do about the memories?" Lexaeus asked. Zexion was silent for a minute, contemplating the question.

"I'll face them," he answered. "I can't run forever. They're a part of my past, and I have to accept that. And maybe, if I continue as I have been, I'll remember other things. Maybe even things from before… before the lab."

All the while he had been staring straight ahead, but Lexaeus' gloved fingers touched his face and he turned to see the larger man bending to be at his eye level, a smile on his face. Zexion relished the sight, knowing that he had been given a rare gift.

"A good answer," the Hero murmured, then leaned forward and kissed him.

Zexion's eyes flew wide in shock. For several seconds, his mind strained to comprehend. Lexaeus. _Lexaeus. This is _Lexaeus. _And he's… oh gods…_

Then his brain seemed to lose interest and shut down completely, and then it was all Lexaeus. Lexaeus' arms encircling him, Lexaeus' hands on his back and in his hair, Lexaeus' lips on his, Lexaeus' scent filling his nose, Lexaeus' eyes boring into his until he finally gave in completely and shut them. He kissed back, because it felt so _good_, and he reached up and wrapped his arms around Lexaeus' neck.

Through it all, the empty ache in his chest grew steadily worse, until it became almost impossible to bear. In his mind's eye, a pair of blue eyes stared at him reprovingly. They were darker than those of Lexaeus, closer to…

Zexion pulled away with a gasp. Lexaeus let go immediately, concern emanating from him once more.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his already raspy voice unusually husky.

"No," Zexion whispered, lifting a hand and placing it over the spot where his physical heart beat. "It's…"

Although he couldn't find the words to describe the pain, Lexaeus seemed to understand. Perhaps he, too, felt so sharply the lack of a heart with which to love.

"I'm sorry," the large man told him.

"It's not you," Zexion murmured. "I just… give me some time," he begged, looking plaintively into Lexaeus' eyes, hoping that he would understand. He must have, for he straightened.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and with a last, longing look, he left. Zexion sat, stunned, as the door closed quietly.

_Lexaeus._

_…Marluxia._

He closed his eyes, feeling again the incredible sensation of a foreign mouth on his. All too soon, however, the rocky lips went soft, the fingers in his hair slimmed noticeably, and the scent in his sensitive nose went from earthy to floral.

Zexion wrenched himself out of his… daze? daydream? as the sound of a portal opening reached his ears. He saw the now-familiar pink hair and instantly felt guilty, ashamed.

"Are you all right?" Marluxia asked, pausing on his way into the room. "You look a bit… flushed."

Zexion realized with a twinge of remembered embarrassment that he was blushing. He quickly hid the redness with a small illusion.

"I'm fine," he lied, gesturing to the other chair. Marluxia sat, relaxing somewhat. In some vague way, it irked him that the Assassin was so nonchalant around him. "Shall we begin?"

"In a rush, are you?" XI asked, smirking. Zexion caught himself staring at the other's lips and jerked his eyes back up to meet Marluxia's.

"There's nothing to chat about," he said gruffly, raising his hands to Marluxia's face. Inexplicably, he suddenly wished that he weren't wearing his gloves, but he irritably pushed the annoying desire aside. With only the slightest hesitation, he entered Marluxia's mind.

_He had been nine when his father left. Mama had been pregnant with Lia at the time, and he could remember hearing his parents argue through the thin walls as he put Jean and Luc to bed. He had been so young then… he couldn't have understood why his father was going away. When he grew older he would understand a bit more, but it still made him angry._

_He could remember his mother holding him back as he tried to run after Papa, to convince him not to go, to come back and play with him in the meadow again. But he hadn't once looked back to see how his eldest son was struggling to reach him. He didn't even give any sign that he had heard Ara's screams._

_Then he had vanished over the hill, and Ara had known, with horrifying certainty, that he would never see his father again._

_His mother's hands always smelled like the herbs she used to make soap. The smell lingered all around the house, mingled with the wildflowers that Ara always brought in from the meadow. She almost always smiled before Papa left, and almost never smiled afterwards._

_Lia was a troublemaker—_

_—it was you, it was _you you_ were the reason Ara lost his heart because he loved you too much, the fool—_

_—and the boys were playful, always rough-housing as boys do…_

_Boys play-fighting, boys flying through the air, boys talking to a ball of light, what was her name…_

_Tinkerbell, that was it, Tinkerbell…_

_…lost boys, Lost Boys…_

_Pirates, kidnappers, scientists, dark, lab, hurt…_

Zexion squeezed his eyes shut tightly. This memory was a shallow one, so he could feel it as Marluxia reached up and took his hand.

_It's all right. I'm here._

Zexion frowned at the touch.

_I don't want…_

He remembered his promise to Lexaeus. He had sworn to himself to face his memories.

_To find is to lose and to lose is to find. Lose your fear… find your memories!_

Marluxia's hand squeezed his and this time, instead of frowning, he took comfort in the warm grip.

_Blood, darkness, lab…_

It passed in a blur of remembered agony, but he refused to back down. He took it steadfastly, taking his strength from Marluxia's hand on his. Back and back he went, passing months, maybe even years in that cold metal room, dark and dark and dark and then…

_Light._

* * *

**A/N:** Hahahahaha, cliffhanger-type-thing! Well, next chapter you finally get the whole inside scoop on Ienzo's past... but not for a while, because it's gonna be long, and I still have Depths of Oblivion to write and I'm at a long chapter in that too!

...WTF, Lexaeus? This is a MAR/ZEX fic, not Lex/Zex!

...but I just had to, because Lex/Zex is so much win, and it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, and it opens up lots of tragic opportunities, besides. u.u

Oh, and the thing Lexaeus mentioned with Xemnas is important later. Just so you know. Pay attention. XDDD

Poor Vexen, I'm so blah about him in this fic. (Well, he gets lots of screen time in DoO, so I guess that's okay!)

Review or Axel will burn your favorite stuffed animal. ('Cause he's mean like that. XD)


	7. Ienzo

**A/N:** AHA! There it is, folks, enjoy!**  
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**  
Encounter 7. Ienzo**

_His face stings. He got in a fight with Slightly over something, although just what, he forgets. It's always something stupid, though. Only grown-ups pick fights over important stuff, and Jinks sword long ago that he'd never grow up._

_He doesn't know how long he's been a Lost Boy. Time makes no sense here in Neverland, and it doesn't matter anyway. After Nibs, before Toodles. None of them know or care how old they are, but they do celebrate birthdays every so often, whenever they feel in a particularly good mood._

_It had probably been dumb to fight Slightly, since he was the biggest, and Jinks was the smallest. It lands him on lookout duty, which is dumb too. The Indians never bothered them. They definitely wouldn't with Jinks on watch. He had friends among the Indians, like the brave Runs-Like-A-Rabbit and the wise man, Dances-In-The-Rain. (Personally, Jinks didn't think dancing in the rain was very wise, but he never said so. It might not be smart, but it was fun.)_

_It's Dances-In-The-Rain he goes to to tell about the dreams he's been having, like the one where the stars go out and he wakes up screaming. Peter only laughs, and so do the other boys, but Dances-In-The-Rain listens and talks to him about it._

_"Think no more of these dreams, little one," Dances-In-The-Rain tells him, patting him on the shoulder. "It will be all right."_

_He grins, his normally serious face wrinkling._

_"Little one, you deserve a better name."_

_Jinks snorts._

_"Don' need one. Got a name already."_

_"How about 'Dreams-Of-The-Stars?'" Dances-In-The-Rain says, ignoring him. Jinks snorts again, makes a rude gesture, and leaves._

_The dreams had started just a little while ago, relatively. Two birthdays, he thinks, although that's not too reliable. Here in Neverland, birthdays don't count years. Usually he's able to forget about them. He flies with Tink, or goes to play with the mermaids, or spies on the Indians, or fights the pirates. They know him by now, or at least they remember that the smallest boy is still a better fighter than most of the others._

_He's not afraid of the pirates. He's seen Hook running from the crocodile before. He's laughed at them, just out of reach of their swords and too quick to be hit by their cannons. He's lucky not to be shot, but he assumes that the pirates just have really bad aim._

_Until one day, when his luck fails._

_He's more surprised than anything. Even the pain comes second to that, at first. His face must be something to see, because they're all laughing. He hits the deck before the shot even stops echoing, losing the will to fly. He stares at the wound without really seeing it, watching something red and sticky covering his ragged clothes._

_The ship's surgeon digs the bullet out and stops the bleeding with a tight tourniquet. He's still in shock. He's never really gotten hurt before, not that he can remember._

_The pirates throw him in the brig. He curls up in a corner, cold and alone. Eventually the shock wears off, leaving only the pain, which is almost unbearable._

_Gradually he realizes that they've been moving. Time is even harder to judge in the ship. It hurts to move, but he's bored out of his skull, so he resorts to doing laps of the brig, climbing boxes whenever the pain will let him. He tries flying, but either he can't muster enough happiness or Tink's dust is wearing off, because he can only manage a few inches, hovering for a moment or two before he falls, and that hurts more. Eventually he can't get off the ground at all._

_Sometimes the pirates come down, usually to get food. He watches them and learns which crates hold food and water, so he keeps himself fed. They laugh at him occasionally, muttering under their breath to each other. It's a lot harder to fight without flying, but he does it anyway. He ends up hurting every time, since it's just him against them, but at least it gives him something to do._

_Days, weeks, months, he doesn't know, but one day there's a bump, and Jinks knows the feeling well enough: they've landed somewhere. There's a lot of hustle and bustle, pirates carrying cargo in and out. At first he thinks he might be able to escape in all the chaos, but his hopes are dashed as soon as Mr. Starky and funny Mr. Smee come for him. He kicked, struggled, and bit, but Mr. Starky seems to know exactly where he hurts and exploits it._

_He's carried like a sack of potatoes over the pirate's shoulder and brought out into bright sunlight. He blinks spots from his eyes, squinting. Wherever this place is, it's definitely not Neverland. It's pretty, but he doesn't have much time to stare before he's put down on his feet. He tries to bolt—where to, he doesn't know and doesn't care—but there are other people here, not just the pirates, and they catch him. They're not as strong as the pirates, but they must have some kind if magic, because they just barely touch a spot on his neck and everything goes black._

_When he wakes up, he's not sure he did. It's all dark, and he feels funny, like he's still asleep and this is all a dream. Whatever he's lying on is really cold, but he can't bring himself to move._

_It's weird how the line between "won't" and "can't" is all fuzzy, but it doesn't really matter, because he drifts off again._

_They fix his wound sometime, he's not sure when, but the loss of that pain just opens the way for a lot more._

_When it gets really bad he tries to remember Neverland and life before Neverland. He can almost recall a woman's face, her voice, a man's laugh and strong hands. Gradually the memory fades. He clings to Neverland, but one day he finds he can't remember the other boys' names or faces. Another, he forgets the fairy's name._

_Soon he realizes he can't remember his own name._

_It's a jolt when life changes again, this time for the better. Going from the lab to life… well, maybe he never really leaves the lab, just he's not the test subject anymore. It's good with the others, with Elaeus._

_How many times does his life change? A new face, a new mind to try to figure out, but Xehanort isn't easy to analyze._

_It was a dumb idea, in hindsight. You don't mess around with the heart. It's just not done. But they did it anyway._

_Not my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault…_

_Why is it that the last thing they all feel is fear?_

_My fault. It was. It was all my fault. Mine…  
_

Zexion shuddered as he fell out of his own memories, Marluxia following quickly behind him. He raised a trembling hand to his face and discovered wetness on his glove. He gasped and shivered.

"Ien… Zexion?" Marluxia murmured, uncertainly moving closer. A moment later, the Schemer slid from his chair, collapsing bonelessly on the floor. "Zexion? Are you all right?"

He knelt beside the other, gingerly laying his hands on Zexion's shoulders. To his amazement, VI leaned into him, slumped limply against his broad chest. The smaller Nobody's frame was wracked by sobs, his thin fingers curling tightly in Marluxia's coat.

"Why… can I still… feel?" Zexion choked out. "Why can I still… cry… like this? Over a past… that's slipped away…"

Hoping Zexion wouldn't kill him later, Marluxia wrapped his arms around the slender Nobody, drawing him close. The Schemer nestled into the warmth, burying his face in Marluxia's shoulder.

"I want to go home!" he cried, and Marluxia was forcibly reminded of how young Ienzo had been. He held Zexion tightly to him, making soothing sounds and gently stroking his silvery-blue hair.

Zexion clung to Marluxia like a drowning man, clutching to what was solid, real, trying not to lose himself in memory again.

"Help me," he whispered, lifting his tear-stained face, his hair sliding back. Marluxia had just enough time to suck in a surprised gasp before Zexion's lips were on his.

The Schemer's kiss was hungry and demanding, desperate. Marluxia let him have what he wanted, partially because he was too stunned to move. If this was what Zexion needed to anchor him firmly to reality, the Assassin wasn't complaining. It wasn't too much to ask… it wasn't his first kiss, and it certainly wasn't bad.

It was only a moment before Zexion retreated, gasping for breath, but Marluxia wasn't satisfied.

"No," he growled, and pulled VI back in. Zexion moaned softly, leaning into it, tilting his head up and closing his eyes submissively. He parted his lips when prompted and Marluxia deepened the kiss. Somewhere in the still-functioning part of his mind, XI registered that Zexion's hands had unclenched from his coat and were now tangling themselves in his hair. He took the smaller Nobody's face in his hands, wiping tears away with his thumbs.

At last they broke apart. Although Zexion's eyes were red, the tears no longer flowed. He looked vaguely dazed.

"No more crying," Marluxia said breathlessly. Zexion nodded slowly.

"Yes," he said. "Marluxia."

* * *

**A/N:** TA-DAAAA! Some real pairing going on! Reviews! Reviews! 


	8. Excuses

** A/N:** Ta-daaaa!

* * *

** Encounter 8. Excuses  
**

* * *

Perhaps he should have expected it. 

Marluxia still savored the honey-taste of Zexion's lips long after he departed. He hadn't expected to feel this way, at first…

Feel? Marluxia scoffed at his own foolishness. Nobodies couldn't feel. Any reaction he had to Zexion's… surprising behavior was purely a chemical one; Vexen could prove that in a metaphorical heartbeat. It was the logical explanation. And yet, and yet… He wasn't sure whether he had the memories to draw upon for this pretended emotion. Would it be awkward, now, to ask Zexion to search for any romantic relationships that Aramuil had had?

But no, they were Nobodies. Awkwardness didn't exist for them, nor embarrassment, not romance. Marluxia was sure Zexion would see it as just another part of the experiment, more results to bring to the Superior-for-just-a-little-while-longer.

With Sora drawing closer and closer, the sense of tension within Castle Oblivion was growing. Larxene was restless, often popping in and out of his chambers with bored inquiries. Axel was all grins and sharp edges, flitting around the halls. Of the members underground, he knew little. They were doing their part—or more, he reasoned with a smirk. He had dumped most of the extra work on them… less on Zexion, since his present research was proving so beneficial. It was more than worth it. Seeing the two most senior members of their happy little team handling the boring chores gave him the most satisfaction a Nobody could get.

Marluxia chose to wait a while before going back to Zexion's workroom, to alleviate most of the memory of embarrassment. When he stepped out of the portal, however, the room was dim and deserted. He glanced at the clock, confused. He hadn't mistaken the time.

He portaled straight to the cramped common room of the basement levels, looking around. Only Lexaeus was there, and this time it wasn't an illusion. There was a different… feel to him than there was to Zexion.

"Number Eleven," Lexaeus greeted, his seldom-used voice rasping in his throat. "How might I serve you?"

Although the large man's voice showed little of his inner thoughts, Marluxia caught the briefest of hesitations before the word "serve," but he let it slide.

"Where is Number Six?" he demanded. Lexaeus showed no reaction to his tone.

"Away," he responded. "The Superior requires him. He shall be back eventually."

"_I_ require him," Marluxia snapped.

"Do you believe your need is greater than the Superior's?" Lexaeus asked, and Marluxia said nothing. The Silent Hero studied him with unreadable eyes. Marluxia grew uncomfortable under that all-too-knowing gaze and half-opened a portal back to Naminé's room, but Lexaeus spoke again.

"He didn't think you would return," he said. "He was going to resort to using Larxene."

"I'm not satisfied with the results thus far," Marluxia answered. "Kindly tell Number Six that I expect him to come to me the moment he returns."

Lexaeus nodded, but there was a trace of skepticism in his face.

"I doubt he will do as you expect," the giant Nobody said. "I shall tell him, regardless."

Marluxia snorted and exited.

* * *

He wiled away the hours overseeing the castle's preparations and Naminé's condition. He spared a few minutes to bother Vexen, then returned to his rooms to write up his most recent report to the Superior-for-not-much-longer. He didn't look up until he heard the sound of a dark corridor opening and closing, and even then he stalled for a moment while he finished a sentence before looking up. He blinked. 

"You look terrible," he said.

Zexion's eyes glittered with something almost like amusement as he took a brief glance at himself.

"You _did_ say to come the moment I returned," he retorted, tucking sodden bangs behind one ear. Marluxia wrinkled his nose as mud dripped onto the white floor. He summoned a pair of Dusks.

"Clean up first," he ordered. Zexion shamelessly shrugged out of his torn and filthy coat, and one of the Dusks relieved him of it. The other bobbed around with a towel, dabbing slime and blood and Darkness knows what else away. Marluxia frowned as he saw that some of the blood was Zexion's. VI saw the look and smiled humorlessly.

"Xemnas required my talents," he said. "However, it was a rough mission."

"I… I'm pleased that you've returned… relatively safely," Marluxia said. Zexion accepted a fresh coat and pulled it on, hiding pale skin once more. Marluxia felt a slight pang of disappointment. The Schemer stepped out of the puddle that had formed beneath him, letting the Dusks attend to it.

"What was it you wanted, XI?" he asked, as businesslike as ever. Marluxia stood and rounded the desk, leaning against it despite, or perhaps because of, the flicker of annoyance that crossed Zexion's face.

"I wanted to speak with you about the other day's… experiment," he said. Zexion flinched visibly, as though Marluxia had just re-opened a fresh wound.

"What is there to talk about?" the Schemer replied in monotone, his eyes becoming chips of ice.

"I saw your memories," Marluxia reminded him. "Ienzo's memories. And you…" He purposefully trailed off. Zexion's face was horribly blank, and the Assassin was again reminded of how long the elder six had been without hearts.

"What did you expect, Marluxia?" the small Nobody asked. "Did you think I would pledge my soul to you forever? Did you think I wouldn't be able to ignore you? Did you think I would invite you into my _bed_?! We're _Nobodies_, Marluxia. We can't _feel_. You would do well to remember that. I've put what happened behind me… you should, too."

He turned away, the beginnings of a portal shimmering in the air around him, but Marluxia lunged forward, seizing his forearm before he could escape.

"Let go," Zexion hissed, turning furious blue eyes on him.

"No," Marluxia growled. "Not until you tell me the truth."

"I already have," the smaller man argued, trying to pull away, but Marluxia's fingers tightened to bruising strength.

"Don't give me that," he said, grinning. "I know better. You're still calling me 'Marluxia,' aren't you? Not always just my number. You aren't really mad at me."

"Because I _can't_ be," Zexion retorted, glaring at him. "I have no heart. No emotions. I cant possib_mmph_—!"

Satisfied that he had silenced Zexion's protests for a few moments, at least, Marluxia pulled away, licking his lips. Zexion, after a moment of shock, twisted and struck him with his free hand. The angle was so poor that the blow had little force, and Marluxia easily shrugged it off.

"How… how _dare_ you," Zexion spat, although he sounded somewhat breathless. "You…"

"You're not fooling anyone, Zexion," Marluxia said, rolling the name around on his tongue, savoring how it felt. "It isn't so terrible, is it? If you _really_ didn't want this, I would be on the other side of the room by now… unconscious."

"I could still do that, you know," Zexion said, but his struggles were subsiding. Marluxia was no psychologist, but he could read people well enough to recognize the excitement in Zexion's eyes, the tenseness in his body.

"You wouldn't," he purred, moving just a bit closer and feeling Zexion's arm tremble. He leaned down, but Zexion's hand slid perfectly between their faces, blocking him.

"Let's talk about this," he said, and Marluxia chuckled.

"'What is there to talk about?'" he parroted, and one corner of Zexion's lips curled slightly.

"Emotions, or lack thereof," he said dryly. "The fact that even if something… attempts to happen between us, none of it will be real. Only imagines, remembered…"

"Do I look like I care?" Marluxia murmured back, nudging those annoying fingers aside.

"Well, these things do… take time…" Zexion answered, drawing slightly away.

"You're just stalling, now," Marluxia laughed. "Let's make a deal, shall we? Call it… diplomatic relations between upstairs and downstairs?"

"I might need to… think about it," Zexion whispered, before Marluxia kissed him.

"Mm," Zexion hummed as Marluxia lat him go, a positively mischievous gleam in his cool blue eyes. "It's a deal."

* * *

**A/N: **Hmm. Number of reviews in each chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 3 ,11, 3. Hmm... 11 reviews in one chapter? That was the one I didn't continue on for a month. Maybe I should do that every time...? Oh, you wouldn't like that? Better REVIEW. 


	9. Touch

**A/N:** Happy 11/6!!!X3 A beautiful day for an M rating... erm. -sweatdrop-

* * *

** Encounter 9. Touch **

* * *

  
When he heard the dark corridor open, Zexion didn't look up from his work.

"You're late," he said crossly.

"Did you miss me?" Marluxia asked, his footsteps drawing near.

"I've been too busy pretending to be annoyed for the past four minutes and twenty-six-point-three seconds," the Schemer answered, tapping a finger on the clock lying beside his book on the desk. Marluxia leaned over his shoulder, disregarding any personal space.

"You must really have been pining for me," he purred into Zexion's ear.

"I was only surprised," Zexion said coolly. "You've never been late so far."

Marluxia chuckled, resting his chin on the seated Nobody's shoulder.

"I've had a lot to deal with," he said. "Sora is almost here."

"I know," Zexion replied. "That position can't be comfortable."

"You're not throwing me off," the Assassin reminded him. "I don't waste opportunities."

Zexion shut his book with a snap, shrugging suddenly. He smirked as he felt the taller Nobody's head jerk back.

"That wasn't very polite," Marluxia growled, rubbing his sore jaw. Zexion only smiled sweetly as he turned to face him.

"You don't seem to mind wasting time," he said. "Let's get down to business, shall we? The sooner we're finished here, the sooner you can get back to your preparations."

Marluxia sighed elegantly, sinking into his usual chair with his natural grace.

"There's no need to rush," he said, a little pout curving his lips. "To tell the truth, I'd rather spend the time with you. The others have things under control."

Zexion raised an amused eyebrow.

"I suppose it makes no sense to rush something like this," he agreed slowly. "But, even so…"

"I'm bored," Marluxia interrupted, his blue eyes bright. "Isn't there something a little more… interesting we could be doing?"

His lazy smile made it quite clear to Zexion just what he thought would be 'more interesting.' It was a tempting offer. The Schemer suppressed a shiver.

"Business before pleasure," he murmured. Marluxia pouted some more, then sighed with the air of one who is being asked to do something very unreasonable.

"Fine," he grumbled. "What are you searching for today, O mighty Schemer?"

Zexion considered his answer carefully before he replied, "How can you pretend to love me if you can't remember what it felt like?"

Before Marluxia could think up a witty response to this, Zexion reached out and laid his fingertips over the Assassin's lips.

_Her hair was always soft, and changed color with the seasons—sunshine yellow in summer, the gold of ripe corn in winter. Her smile was gentle, her touch was gentle, everything about her was gentle. She had the power to transform him from a cynical, bitter youth into someone completely different._

_Love was being close to someone. Love was knowing that you were always on someone's mind. Love was holding her close and listening to her voice, her voice which always sounded like she was singing, her laugh like chimes. He loved hearing her say his name. It sounded so much more wonderful when she said it. She made him feel, if only for short periods of time, that he didn't have to freeze his heart._

Something ached where his heart should have been. Zexion shook it off, knowing it was Marluxia's reaction passing through to him via his power.

_What was her name?_ he asked, keeping them submerged in the memory.

_Hair like sunshine. Laugh like bells. Lips like roses. Heart like gold._

_Juliette._

It must have taken a huge effort, but Marluxia extricated himself from the surely-painful memories, smiling in his infuriating way as he lifted a hand to move Zexion's fingers, although he held onto his hand.

"Business is over with," he said softly, and smiled in a half-warning, half-inviting way. "Now, how about some pleasure?"

Zexion allowed a slow smile to twist his lips.

"You wouldn't want to waste an opportunity, would you?"

The Assassin leaned forward and fisted the front of Zexion's coat.

"Absolutely not," he answered, and darkness swirled around them, bringing them to his personal quarters. "I'm sure this will be infinitely more comfortable than that pathetic excuse for an office."

"You could provide a larger one," Zexion said, not batting an eye as the taller Nobody unfastened the chain of his coat.

"We can discuss that later," XI answered, too distracted by the smaller man's zipper to really think about it.

"Why not now?" the Schemer asked, his own fingers busy with Marluxia's clothes. "You said these were… 'diplomatic relations,' didn't you? Which essentially translates to 'negotiations.'"

"You talk too much," Marluxia told him, kissing him to shut him up. Zexion made an unhappy sound as the Assassin plunked him unceremonially down on the bed.

"Would you rather I be completely silent?" he asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow. Marluxia smirked in reply, his eyes smoldering.

"I would be insulted if I couldn't coax a few sweet cries out of you," he murmured. Zexion scowled as Marluxia tried to crawl on top of him. XI laughed out loud. "Don't tell me, you want to be on top?"

"Do you want to spend the next five years convinced that you're a nine-year-old girl?" Zexion asked irritably, trying to dislodge the larger Nobody, with little success.

"You wouldn't."

"I could have Naminé braid your hair," VI threatened. Marluxia's smile was amused, but firm.

"I'm sure you could," he said, stripping Zexion of his remaining garments, "but I think you'll find it much more enjoyable this way. Don't worry," he added when Zexion growled. He leaned down to nip at the slender man's ear. "I'll make it worth your while."

Zexion grudgingly submitted, letting Marluxia press against him. He had to admit, the other _was_ making it worthwhile, with those enviably clever hands. He hissed and arched his back, pushing into Marluxia's grasp.

"You've… you've done this before," he said, as soon as he managed to get enough breath together.

"Things can get boring, upstairs," Marluxia responded. He studiously slid some fingers into Zexion's mouth. "Now kindly stop talking. It's quite distracting, and I'm sure there are better things you can do with that tongue of yours."

Zexion narrowed his eyes in annoyance, but wetted the fingers anyway. It would do no good to be stubborn in this area. He made himself relax around the now-slick fingers, seeing an almost admiring look spring to Marluxia's eyes.

"You've done this before, too," XI commented.

"I thought we weren't talking," Zexion replied, carefully keeping his breathing normal.

"_You're_ not talking," corrected Marluxia. "_I_ made no guarantees of any sort."

Zexion couldn't stop a little gasp from escaping his lips as those fingers brushed a spot inside that made his vision go white. The Assassin knew his business well, and VI struggled to maintain his composure.

"Enough," he said at last, his voice embarrassingly taut. Marluxia's hot lips brushed his throat and he shivered.

"Pushy, pushy," XI muttered, although he drew his fingers out anyway. Zexion spread his legs further in encouragement.

"Are you sure about this, Zexion?" Marluxia asked, pausing. The Schemer growled at him.

"Of course I am! Stop stalling!" he snarled. A moment later his world exploded in hazy ecstasy as Marluxia pushed inside of him. He draped his arms around the Assassin's neck, biting his own lips hard to keep from crying out. Without noticing, he opened his mind and let it flood into Marluxia's until it was uncertain whose pleasure each was feeling as the larger man rested, letting him adjust.

Marluxia buried his face in VI's neck, moving against that same spot that made Zexion moan softly. The smaller Nobody pushed back, letting the almost-feelings spread through him into Marluxia's mind, the other man's pleasure washing back into him. He trembled and gave a choked cry as he came, and the larger Nobody held him through shuddering aftershocks. Zexion felt him arch, taut as a bowstring, as he finished, could feel the contentment radiating from the Assassin. Marluxia's breath was warm on his ear.

For a moment, Zexion lay with his eyes closed, content to hold Marluxia and imagine that he could feel something other than the deep ache where his heart should have been.

Then Marluxia stirred, a little sigh leaving him.

"Begging your pardon," he said, in a voice somewhat softer than his ordinarily condescending tone, "but I have a castle to attend to."

Zexion stared at him, sitting up as the larger man went to pull his clothes on.

"What?" he asked indignantly. "Was I not good enough for you? Would you rather have Larxene or Axel?"

"That's not it," Marluxia said placatingly, bending to cup his cheek. "You were wonderful. But it's like you said: we're Nobodies. We don't have hearts. We can't feel, so don't fret."

"Are you always like this?" Zexion grumbled, standing and dressing impatiently. "You're deplorable. If you expect me to come back after that, you're cr—!"

Marluxia again interrupted him with a kiss, pulling him close. He felt the memory of anger slipping from his grasp, leaving him floundering. There was nothing to cling to but Marluxia. And cling he did, without intending to, leaning up into it, parting his lips to taste the other. After a long moment, XI just held him, whispering into his ear.

"It's just that… I _feel_ something. I _almost_ feel it, when you're with me. I don't know how to explain it."

"Then don't," Zexion answered. He pulled away. "I have things to do," he said briskly. "And so do you."

"Who's being tactless now?" Marluxia chuckled. "Tomorrow, then. Same time, same place?"

"Tomorrow…?" Zexion asked, mildly confused.

"We're not finished with the research, are we?"

Zexion blinked.

"Oh… oh! The research, yes… yes, of course."

This was new to him, he reflected as he stepped backwards into a portal. That man… he had scarcely shown an interest in Zexion after sleeping with him. But Marluxia, of all people, wanted a long-term "relationship…"

This was just too strange.

* * *

A/N: "That man" refers to someone other than Marluxia, in case you couldn't tell... you know, like in fan-translated manga when they talk about someone unknown, it's always "that guy" or "that man."

You know the drill! Happy 11/6!

-dives out of sight-


	10. Instinct

**A/N:** Woohoo. Fast update. u.u**  
**

* * *

** Encounter 10. Instinct **

* * *

  
It was harder and harder to find time for their mutual research with Sora's approach at hand. Marluxia juggled his own plans with the preparations and his frequent brushes with Zexion. He knew Zexion was struggling on the underground end of things, and graciously continued to heap the tasks onto Lexaeus or Vexen. It was always best to keep Zexion satisfied… it usually turned out well for Marluxia also.

Aside from occasional snickering or too-knowing glances, Axel and Larxene had not mentioned anything about Marluxia's interactions with VI. The Assassin knew this surprisingly lenient behavior was too good to last.

"How goes it, fearless leader?" Axel asked from his relaxed position on the couch.

"Fine, fine," Marluxia replied absently, still savoring the memory of his recent encounter with Zexion. Axel grinned, glancing at Larxene. She stretched, smirking.

"And how is sexy Zexy today?" she asked. "Still tight?"

Marluxia rounded on her, eyes flashing.

"Listen, you—"

"Hey, no need to get all defensive," Axel said, rising slowly and patting his hands in the air.

"Of _course_ he gets defensive," Larxene crowed. "He gets jealous whenever anyone else mentions his little boy-toy…"

"He's _not_ my…!"

"Oh, of _course_, he's not _only_ yours," Larxene cried maliciously. "I wouldn't put it past him; he can't even_fight_, so he's probably screwing everyone he thinks could protect him, the little slut!"

"Take that back," Marluxia snapped, his scythe materializing in his hands.

"Are you mad 'cause it's true?" Larxene answered, shrieking with laughter. "Are you jealous that you're after _Lexaeus_? Probably even _Xemnas_?

"Oh, leave him alone, Larxene," Axel drawled. "He doesn't need to know that Zexy's been sleeping around since _long_ before _he _came along."

"You stay out of this," Marluxia hissed, glaring at him.

"Don't get mad at _us_, just because your Zexy's _fu_—"

"Shut up!" Marluxia bellowed, losing his temper. Axel held up his hands placatingly.

"Hey," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't feel too bad. It's a hard truth, but face it: We don't have hearts. We can't love. Faithful, unfaithful, it doesn't mean anything to us. Sex is the only way we can really communicate, you know? No one takes it seriously."

Marluxia scowled, but his scythe vanished from his hands.

"Stop wasting time," he ordered. "The Key-bearer is approaching."

* * *

"The Superior requests your presence," Lexaeus said immediately upon Zexion's appearance. His gaze was faintly reproving, and VI self-consciously straightened his coat and ran his fingers through his mussed hair.

"When was this?"

"A Dusk appeared shortly after you left. You weren't in your office, nor your room. I thought it might save you some trouble if I searched no further."

Zexion again felt a pang of almost-guilt.

"I should report to him right away," he said desperately, wanting to escape the situation unscathed. He was not to be so lucky, for Lexaeus' gravelly voice halted him as he opened a portal.

"Zexion."

He looked over his shoulder. V had an odd look on his face, a combination of almost-concern and almost-disapproval.

"Be careful. You play a dangerous game," the Hero told him. Zexion put on his best innocent face.

"I don't know what you mean," he said. "I should go…"

"You know as well as I that XI and the others upstairs are plotting something," Lexaeus reminded him. "It makes me… nervous to have you… in such _close_ contact with Marluxia."

Zexion bit his lip. Lexaeus knew more than he'd thought the large man would.

"I am aware of that," he said, choosing his words with care. "I… This is nothing more than an attempt to blind me to their plans."

"Why play along?"

Zexion hesitated.

"Two can play at such a game as this," he said finally. "Our… Whatever is going on between XI and I is simply another method of gaining information. Mere manipulation… nothing more."

There was a long silence. Then Lexaeus shook his head, but said nothing more. His eyes said enough. Zexion took the opportunity to escape through the portal he had opened.

* * *

If he had thought the confrontation with Lexaeus uncomfortable, it was nothing to how he felt now.

Xemnas had a way of making him feel lost, even though he knew exactly where he was: the Superior's office, the castle, Never Was, it just went back and back until he eventually got to "the cosmos." But in Xemnas' presence, he was disoriented The gap in his chest seemed to yawn wider, aching sharply. The man's power tugged at all Nobodies in the same way.

"Number VI. You're late."

"Forgive me, Superior," Zexion said, bowing low. "I had a previous engagement."

"One more important than your report to me, evidently."

There was no trace of a reprimand in Xemnas' tone, yet Zexion flinched anyway as though the man had snapped at him. He straightened, but kept his eyes averted. He often had the oddest feeling that Xemnas could reach into him and find every little secret he was hiding.

"How is the situation at Castle Oblivion?" Xemnas asked. Zexion knew better than to assume he was talking about the Key-bearer; he had Marluxia's written reports for that.

"I have found no reason to be suspicious," he answered. "Admittedly, I am not in XI's inner circle and so cannot—"

The Superior's laugh was rich and unexpected. Zexion looked up, startled. Xemnas' red-gold eyes glowed with near-amusement.

"Come now, Zexion. You are closer to him than Axel or Larxene."

Zexion's breath caught. Could he know…?

"You are in his mind every day. If that isn't an 'inner circle,' what is?"

The Schemer relaxed momentarily, but didn't let his guard down as Xemnas drew near. It was hard to keep from flinching as one dark hand reached out for him.

"I want you to go into his mind," Xemnas murmured, twining some of Zexion's silvery hair around his fingers. He tugged gently, just enough to make the smaller Nobody look at him. "I want you to find out just what he's up to. And once you're through with him, if you find anything that goes against the Organization… I want you to tear him apart." He leaned down to continue so that his warm breath tickled Zexion's ear. "I want you to take his mind and turn it inside out, make him scream, make him beg. I want you to drive him to insanity, a waling heap of wretched nothingness… and then I want you to destroy him."

His fingers tightened in the Schemer's hair.

"Can you do that for me, Zexion?" he asked, his voice a low, silky-smooth purr. "Can you follow my orders?"

Zexion swallowed hard, unable to keep his eyes open or suppress a shiver as Xemnas stroked his hair.

"Yes, Superior," he whispered, unable to put any real feeling into his voice. Xemnas was apparently satisfied, but he didn't move away.

"That's right," he purred, petting VI with a gentle hand. "Your power is a useful tool, Zexion."

"I live only to serve you, Superior," Zexion replied, still failing to raise his voice above a whisper.

"Very good," Xemnas murmured, smiling against the Schemer's ear. "I am most pleased."

"I perform my best for you, Superior."

"Excellent."

Xemnas let go of him and paced a few steps backwards.

"I expect a full report upon your return," he instructed, "whether you find the need to destroy XI or not. You may go, Number Six… and don't fail me."

"Yes, Superior," Zexion intoned, bowing deeply before opening a portal and slipping through as rapidly as he could without appearing rushed.

* * *

Zexion was sure that if he had a heart, it would be breaking.

He paced restlessly, waiting with a growing memory of dread for Marluxia's arrival. Xemnas' orders rang in his ears.

_"I want you to tear him apart."_

He, Lexaeus, and Vexen had known for almost as long as they had been at Oblivion that Marluxia and his cronies were cooking up something. Now Xemnas, too, had caught on, and the Superior had no mercy when it came to traitors.

"Zexion?"

The small Nobody gasped and whirled to face a newly-arrived Marluxia. So distracted had he been that he hadn't even heard the portal open. The Assassin moved closer, concern (or the memory of it, rather) etched into his features.

"Are you all right? You look pale. Paler than usual, that is."

Zexion jerked away from the hands which reached out to touch him. Marluxia blinked, then lowered his arms.

"I'm fine," the Schemer said, keeping his words short and to the point. He couldn't afford to show any weakness, couldn't let Marluxia know what he was about to do. This was his chance to prove his loyalty to Xemnas, to ensure that he would never be on the wrong end of the Superior's frequent rages again.

"We'll be doing something… different today," he said, gesturing tightly for the other to sit. Marluxia did so, looking intrigued, and Zexion sat across from him, reaching over to gently stroke the other's bangs away from his temples. He closed his eyes and sank into Marluxia's consciousness. Something gave a sudden pang in his chest as the other man let him in, closing his eyes, completely surrendering himself. He was so utterly trusting by now, knowing beyond a doubt that Zexion would not harm him. A lump rose in Zexion's throat, but he mercilessly blinked away the stinging sensation in his eyes as he worked. He spread himself out through Marluxia's mind, gently brushing against it, using the pleasure to disguise what he was really doing.

The plot to use Sora to overthrow the Organization was engraved with painful clarity into the Assassin's mind. Zexion forced himself to be impartial, to look on all of Marluxia's conversations with the other two aboveground members as he would anyone else's. He listened in with a detached sort of horror as he relived the memory of a conversation about his own death, about Lexaeus', about Vexen's. All of this was incriminating enough evidence for Xemnas. He vaguely felt Marluxia shudder under his fingers—he was doing his best to make this feel good—and heard his name rustle through familiar lips.

"Zexion… that's good…" the Assassin moaned, and he raised his hands to draw Zexion closer. Zexion couldn't stop the tears when they came, but he let Marluxia kiss him even as he pressed harder on the other's mind, preparing to dig in. The heart he didn't have was pounding in his chest and he screamed inwardly as he took Marluxia's mind in a painfully strong grip. Marluxia gasped, sliding closer to him and arching, moaning, but now in pain.

"Z… Zex… what… are you…"

He broke off with a cry. Zexion buried his face in Marluxia's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his hair, trying not to hear as the Assassin began to scream. Nothing could keep him from hearing the agony inside of Marluxia as he dragged spiritual fingers through the other's mind, ready to tear it as easily as a piece of rice paper.

_Why why Zexion why no please Zexion oh gods why are you doing this Ienzo please help me Zexion no why why why why why…_

Zexion let go.

He did so both physically and mentally, wrenching away and falling hard to his knees. Marluxia was reduced to trembling spasmodically, gasping, wetness evident on his face.

"Zexion?" he whispered, once he had recovered enough. "What was that?"

"We're done for today," Zexion responded, his voice rough.

"Zex…"

"I said we're done!" the Schemer cried, flinging out a hand and opening a portal to Marluxia's rooms. "Go!"

Again, the Assassin hesitated. Ready to forgive, even now.

"Please," Zexion whispered. "Just go."

A moment later, he heard the portal close, taking Marluxia with it. Grateful for the privacy, Zexion rolled over and was violently sick. As soon as he was done, he rested his cheek on the cold stone of the floor.

He hadn't reacted like that since the very first time he had torn apart someone's mind on Xemnas' orders. He had never had to do such a thing to a fellow Nobody, let alone someone he knew, let alone someone he…

He still balked from the impossible verb.

_Loved._

Xemnas would destroy him for certain if he found out. Zexion knew this.

He wiped his mouth with the back of a shaky hand, pushing himself up onto his feet and going to the sink to rinse. Once he was clean, he stared at his reflection, shocked at how strange he looked, how little like Ienzo. The hair was silvery-blue, not black, and longer. His eyes, too, had changed from black to blue. Gone was what little baby fat Ienzo had still had. Zexion was all sharp angles, all ivory skin stretched over bones.

He'd thought he'd known what Zexion looked like. Now, he wasn't so sure. He reached out and his fingers bushed those of his reflection, stopped only by the mirror's cold surface,

"You're not him," he said out loud. His soft statement seemed to echo too loudly in the empty room. "You're not Ienzo, and you never _can_ be. You can't feel. You can't hate yourself. You can't l… you can't love Marluxia. Ienzo could have." His hands clenched. "But _you're not Ienzo_."

A moment later he couldn't stand the sight of the monster in the glass, and the mirror shattered into dozens of pieces under his power. He didn't flinch as one or two cut through his uniform and into his skin. Once everything had settled, he looked down at the shards, seeing countless blue eyes looking back up at him.

"Xemnas doesn't have to know," he murmured to himself.

Heartless he may be, but base instincts remained, didn't they? That was the definition of a Nobody: a creature held together by habit and instinct. And any creature would protect its mate.

He tried not to think about the conversations he had heard in Marluxia's mind.

_It was a ploy. A diversion, so Axel and Larxene wouldn't bother us. He won't kill me. He _wouldn't_ kill me._

He was so afraid of the Superior… that man who Lexaeus had warned him about needlessly, for he knew better than V what Xemnas did… but Marluxia meant more. If Xemnas didn't find out about the wayward XI's plans, perhaps he would survive. Perhaps they _both_ would.

* * *

A/N: Whee.

Review or Larxene will sacrifice a small woodland creature.


	11. Unwelcome

**A/N:** :D Yay. New chapter.**  
**

T.T Almost done!

* * *

**Encounter 11. Unwelcome**

* * *

"Number Six. Is it done?"

Zexion steeled himself under Xemnas' mock-gentle fingers as they ran through his hair and down his neck.

"There is nothing to report," he answered, keeping his gaze carefully on the floor, but ready to look guiltless once Xemnas lifted his chin. The Superior did so a moment later, staring Zexion down. The Schemer met his blank stare steadily. He—Ienzo— had studied psychology in Radiant Garden; he knew how to tell when someone was lying, and he knew how to disguise his own lies.

"Is that so?" Xemnas asked. His tone was as neutral as ever, but anyone who knew him well enough could tell that there was a sinister warning beneath it. Xemnas' nails were moving in light circles on his neck, and Zexion suppressed a shudder. He nodded, making sure he could trust his voice before replying, "Yes, Superior."

"You found… nothing at all?" the larger man asked.

"He is ambitious, yes," Zexion admitted, "but not dangerously so."

For a moment, Xemnas said nothing. Then he backed away.

"Thank you, Zexion," he said, his voice flat and unexcited. There was a pause. Zexion knew better than to think the interrogation was over. When Xemnas spoke again, however, the words were unexpected and startling.

"Do you remember the Garden?"

"I… yes. Yes, of course."

A little smile twisted Xemnas' lips.

"Can you remember what it felt like to have a heart?"

Zexion remained silent. Xemnas was prone to suddenly changing the subject; the best thing to do when he wasn't sure what to say was to say nothing.

"No, of course you can't," the Superior answered himself. "That was so long ago." He shifted restlessly as he spoke, pacing towards Zexion. The smaller Nobody backed up warily, only stopping when he sensed the wall at his back.

"You don't remember. How could you?" Xemnas continued, his eyes slightly unfocused. He seemed to stare not at Zexion, but through him.

_He's trying to find Ienzo._

He froze, forcing himself to remain still as Xemnas' hands ran lazily up and down his sides.

"I think you are lying to me about Marluxia," he purred, his breath warm on Zexion's lips. "I am unconvinced of your loyalty."

_Stone. I am stone. You will not break me._

He tried to turn his head aside, but the Superior's long fingers gripped his chin.

"I've heard from a reliable source," he hissed, "that the… relationship between you and XI is approaching 'unhealthy.'"

"'A reliable source?'" Zexion echoed softly, choking on his words as Xemnas nipped at his lip.

"It seems that Marluxia has found a way to sway you to humor him," the silver-haired man murmured, undoing the chain across the front of Zexion's coat. "Imagine, a traitor among the elders."

His hands moved to the zipper. Zexion closed his eyes as his coat fell open.

_Smoke. I am intangible. You cannot touch me._

"If this is the only way I can assure your loyalty," Xemnas said softly, "then so be it."

"No…!" Zexion cried, trying to pull away. "Superior, please… I…!"

Without batting an eye, Xemnas struck him hard across the face. Zexion slid to the floor, dazed. With a rustle of cloth and a creak of leather, the Superior knelt in front of him, folding Zexion's coat away. He stroked the smaller Nobody's hair in mock-sympathy.

"You have failed me, Zexion," he said quietly. "I expected much more impressive results from you, yet you disappoint me."

"I did what you ordered me to," Zexion choked out. Xemnas ignored him.

"I don't accept failure," he said, then seized the smaller Nobody's wrists, lifting them to touch the wall above their heads. Despite Zexion's struggles, tendrils of darkness twined around his wrists, sinking them halfway into the wall. He shuddered as tan fingers trailed over his ivory skin.

Xemnas' teeth drew away from the base of his neck long enough for him to say, "Be grateful. I've decided not to turn you into a Dusk. You should be thanking me for the chance to prove your loyalty."

Zexion tried to say something, but it was lost in a gasp as Xemnas' fingers slid under the waistband of his pants.

"Do you know how many members of my Organization would kill to be in your position?" Xemnas murmured into his chest. Zexion arched with a little cry as the Superior's fingers brushed between his thighs. "Hmm, but you're not arguing too much, are you?"

"Ahn… I don't…" VI tried, but Xemnas wasn't having any of it. He was busy sliding Zexion's pants down to his ankles, baring more pale skin to the cool air and the cold stone floor. He struggled, only to be struck again.

"Be still," Xemnas purred, licking his fingers in a rather suggestive way. "I'd hate to have to mark your pretty face too much."

Even so, Zexion couldn't help twisting and kicking as the Superior's now-slick fingers teased between his legs.

"No!" he cried. "Please… Xemnas…"

"Stop struggling so much," the Superior told him, pushing the tip of one finger in. "Mm… you're not as tight as I expected. Has someone already been in here?"

Zexion remained silent, albeit with great difficulty, as another finger joined the first. He closed his eyes, turning his face away so he wouldn't have to see Xemnas' smugly triumphant expression. He couldn't hold in a moan as the Superior prepared him.

"That sounded nice," Xemnas whispered, dragging his tongue over Zexion's collarbone. "Do that again."

He twisted his fingers skillfully and Zexion screamed, arching.

"Felt good, didn't it?" the Superior asked, grinning ferally. "Do you want me to do that again?"

"Superior… please… mercy…"

Xemnas withdrew his fingers. Zexion twisted hard, turning his face away as though that would help.

"Ready or not," Xemnas murmured.

Zexion mewled loudly as the larger Nobody pressed into him. Xemnas let him adjust for a moment. Then he moved and Zexion moaned, arching his back. Xemnas' breath was warm on his neck, as slow and controlled as ever. Zexion sprawled dizzily under him, ignoring the tingling in his hands and arms from their uncomfortable position above him.

"Nnh…" he gasped. "Mar…"

It took him a moment to realize his mistake. He bit his tongue as the Superior chuckled.

"And all becomes clear," he murmured. The younger Nobody pushed into his hand, even as he inwardly cursed himself. "That's all right," Xemnas added, with a terribly cold smile. "You can pretend I'm him, if you'd rather."

Zexion couldn't find it in him to argue as he leaned into the Superior's touch.

"If this is the way you are going to behave," Xemnas said, his voice unhurried and unstrained despite his movement, "then I have no choice but to pound this lesson into you until you learn it properly."

He leaned forward so that all Zexion could see were his cold, unfeeling eyes.

"You are a Nobody," he said softly. "Nobodies have no hearts. Now, Zexion, what does that indicate?"

"Nobodies… cannot feel," Zexion gasped, and he felt the first shameful tears sting his eyes.

"Very good," Xemnas murmured, stroking him in approval. "And since we Nobodies cannot feel, we are also unable to form attachments to each other, of a sentimental sort, at least." His next words were hissed directly into Zexion's ear. "The only loyalty that matters is loyalty to your Superior. You needn't feel obligated to protect XI."

Zexion nodded numbly. Anything to stop this… this pain, this humiliation on so many levels, this pleasure he knew he shouldn't be feeling. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep from calling out as he came.

"It does not _do_ to anger your Superior," Xemnas went on, as calmly as ever. "Remember that, Zexion."

A shadow of pleasure crossed his face as he spilled out inside Zexion, the only sign of feeling he had shown. The young Nobody could not hold in the tears any longer, and they spilled freely down his cheeks as Xemnas drew out of him.

"You belong to _me_," the Superior whispered, touching Zexion's face in a horrible mockery of gentleness. "No other will have you."

"Are you bitter?" Zexion whispered. Xemnas froze, his eyes narrowing. The Schemer toed the line—what more could the man do to him? "Are you jealous because I remember love?"

"Number Six."

"You're bitter. You never felt love… only obsession. He never paid Xehanort that kind of attention, did he?"

Xemnas stood abruptly, face pale with a memory of fury, straightening his clothes and looking down at Zexion's limp form.

"You have one last chance," he said, his voice tight. "Destroy Marluxia, and do not return until you have done so." His eyes flashed. "If you fail to follow my orders again, I will make you beg for death."

The moment the portal closed behind him, the darkness binding Zexion's wrists evaporated and he curled up, tremors wracking his entire body.

"Marluxia…" he choked out.

* * *

A/N: Poor Zexy. T.T

It's almost done! Nuuuu! T.T So!

Review or Xaldin will steal all of your ramen.


	12. Breakdown

* * *

**A/N: **Second-to-last chapter! Almost done, my duckies!

-pets- Yes, yes, I'm sad too...

* * *

Encounter 12. Breakdown

* * *

It wasn't like Zexion. Marluxia paced back and forth, prowling his chambers restlessly. What had happened? Zexion's presence in his mind had never before _hurt,_ not even the first time. VI always took great precautions to ensure that there would be no pain, but that time… it had been unbearable. It was as though it had been… intentional.

Perhaps he had been right all along: the Elders weren't to be trusted. They only kept the neophytes around to act as servants, doing their dirty work while they kept their hands clean. The Cloaked Schemer was no better, as Axel and Larxene had said. He used Marluxia for his own protection and pleasure, giving nothing in return but tantalizing glimpses of a forgotten life. Two could play at that game, oh yes… When Marluxia took the Organization, he would use Zexion until his usefulness ran out. It would bring greater pleasure to take VI's head than to bed him.

But no, the Zexion he had come to know wasn't like the others. Had circumstances been different, they could have worked together. They could have taken _worlds_. He was just being paranoid. Zexion had made some mistake, and though it had felt like his mind would be torn apart, the pain had stopped. There was no significance.

_He's one of them_, a sinister corner of his mind whispered. _He feels nothing for you… He feels nothing at all. He would sooner kill you than look at you._

Marluxia shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. No. There was something wrong with Zexion… but this was not the time. Sora had come. He should go and greet his guest.

* * *

It took longer than anticipated. Sora really was quite thick, and it took a lot to pound a lesson or two on the mechanics of the castle into his skull. Marluxia was satisfied by the time it was over, and back to his old self. He opened a portal to Zexion's quarters and entered, confident once more.

That confidence was shattered the moment the portal closed behind him. Zexion's coat was off. His pale skin was blemished by livid purple-and-black bruises. Red mark decorated his throat and upper chest. When he turned to stare at Marluxia, XI saw that the side of his face was swollen and bruised. Zexion shied away as Marluxia closed the distance between them.

"Heal," the Assassin murmured, and cool green magic flowed around his fingers.

"You shouldn't waste your power on something like this," Zexion said.

"Who did this to you?" Marluxia demanded. The small Nobody wouldn't meet his eyes.

"My report did not please the Superior."

Marluxia grasped at the memory of anger, taking strength from it as the bruises marring his bedmate's skin vanished one by one.

"He will pay," he vowed. Zexion laughed, suddenly and harshly.

"Pay?" he repeated incredulously. His eyes were downcast, his expression sharp and bitter. "And just how do you intend to make the Superior do that?"

That seemed to be the worst of it. Marluxia let the healing go, stepping closer.

"I will. Somehow," he amended. It was better to sound unsure—it would alleviate suspicion. He touched Zexion's uninjured cheek and VI pulled away. He frowned, puzzled.

"Zexion, look at me."

An almost inaudible sigh escaped Zexion's lips and he hesitated a moment before looking up. Marluxia studied his eyes, frowning.

"Is there something else?" he asked. "What did he do to you, Zexion?"

"Nothing he hasn't done before," VI muttered, backing away. "Marluxia… don't you have work to be doing?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me? No. I showed Sora the way inside, and Axel volunteered to test his skills. I have nothing to do now but monitor Naminé's progress… and, of course, assist you in your research."

Zexion smiled grimly.

"Oh, I'm sure you have other things to take care of," he said, and Marluxia again wondered how much he knew.

"You _are_ trying to get rid of me," he said, frowning. "Do you mean to say that the project is finished?"

Zexion was silent for a long moment as he donned his coat, brushing invisible dust from it. The zipper sounded far too load, and the smaller Nobody's face was incredibly blank. With growing despair, Marluxia recognized the symptoms: the mask was back on. Something had frightened Zexion so badly that he had once more retreated behind an impenetrable wall.

"Number Eleven," he said at last. The cool, impassionate number was like a knife in Marluxia's gut. "The Superior expressed very strict views on our mutual research. He had lost interest in this project, with the Keybearer so nearly in our grasp. He thinks it best, as do I, that our… contact ends at this."

_No._

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have the underground to see to," Zexion said coldly, and turned without another glance at him.

"You have _not_ been dismissed, Number Six!" Marluxia barked. It was satisfying to see the Schemer flinch. "I am still in command in Castle Oblivion, and I _order_ you to—"

Five quiet words halted him.

"I know what you're planning."

Marluxia froze, mouth still open, but no sound came out. Zexion drew in a breath and let it out slowly.

"I know everything, and the way Xemnas sees it, that makes me a traitor, too."

"Xemnas… Xemnas _knows_?!" Marluxia gasped.

"There is a spy aboveground. He did not learn it from me."

"How long have you known?" XI whispered. Zexion smiled sadly.

"I've known for a long time," he answered.

"Why didn't you tell Xemnas, and spare yourself this pain?" Marluxia asked.

"Isn't it obvious? I didn't want you destroyed," Zexion said softly, moving closer to him. He laid a hand on the taller man's arm. "Marluxia… there's no way out. Xemnas has ordered me to destroy you, to prove my loyalty to him."

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place in Marluxia's mind.

"But you haven't," he murmured. "You could… at any time... but you haven't done it."

"Marluxia, if your coup falls through… you have to run, and fast, before they come after you," Zexion said. "They won't find you, if you move quickly. Only I have the power to do so, and I would sooner die than…"

"Come with me," Marluxia urged him, taking his hand in a tight grip. "They'll never find us… no. Help me, Zexion. You and Naminé together can easily take Sora, and with you on my side, who could stand against us?"

Zexion hesitated, indecision flickering in his eyes.

"I… I can't," he said finally. "Marluxia… you're against the founding six, but I… I'm one of them. They were my friends, when I could feel such things. I'm sorry, but I can't help you. But I will not hinder you, either. I can keep Xemnas out of the business with Sora until he is yours."

Marluxia gazed at him as he pondered this.

"I understand," he said. "I shouldn't have asked… but I will not destroy you. I promise. I can do no more than that."

Zexion's lips curved in a wry smile.

"Negotiations," he said. "Just as I predicted." He looked up at the clock. "You should go," he added. "There isn't much time. I… I wish you luck."

* * *

**A/N:** Next chapter, dear readers, will be the last. It is all written. I shall type it tonight or tomorrow. It will be up tomorrow, I believe. Yes. Very sad. Be prepared.

Review or Roxas will lock your locker. Permanently. And that is a pain in the behind.


	13. Fade

**A/N:** And the last chapter is also the shortest. Huh.

Yes, my friends, it's finally done, all six months worth. Wow. That was... quite amazing. You know, I think this is my first finished non-oneshot for Kingdom Hearts. Wow, wow, wow. That is really... wow. For me, that kind of patience is rare.

I read something funny in Chapter 12 just now, because I was looking at my notebook. You know how sometimes you look really fast at something, and you think a word around the sentence is acutally in it? So I read it like this:

"Come die with me."

...I really can't think of anything I can say, but you're probably getting that nice tragic pit-of-your-stomach feeling right about now. If you're not, go read Luc Court's KH fics when you're done with this. Matter of fact, read them anyway. He's SO good.

But anyway, this is it. I hope you've all enjoyed this. Lots of people read it... it's my most alerted story. To those 25 or so people, thanks!

Enjoy. And you'd better cry.

* * *

Encounter 13. Fade

* * *

Sora was very close now.

Marluxia paced back and forth in his rooms, occasionally summoning his scythe and taking a few swings with it to vent some steam. He carefully maintained the memory of rage, imagining Axel's grinning face sliced into a thousand bloody bits.

Larxene was fighting Sora, but he knew she wouldn't win. Axel had vanished, darkness knew where to. Naminé was gone too, presumably with Sora. Vexen and Lexaeus were dead. It was probably selfish of him to want Zexion to be here. Riku was still loose in the castle's lower levels, along with the mouse king and the mysterious stranger, so the Schemer had plenty to deal with. Still, Marluxia would feel much more secure with the other Nobody around.

He jumped at the sound of a portal opening nearby and whirled, scythe at the ready. A blessedly familiar blue eye narrowed in annoyance.

"Mutiny?" Zexion inquired dryly as the corridor of darkness closed behind him. Marluxia let the scythe vanish from his fingers. Zexion studied him closely, almost-concern crossing his face.

"Larxene will fail," he said. There was no hint of a question; they both knew Sora was stronger than XII gave him credit for. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Marluxia replied, almost completely confident. "If I can bring Naminé back to me, I can force her to erase Sora's memories. It's too late to take him as he is… Axel's meddling already spoiled that. But even without his memories, he can be healed, and perhaps then…"

Zexion shook his head, stepping closer.

"Don't underestimate him, or Naminé," he warned. "Sora is strong. He defeated Vexen, and Larxene will fare no better. He'll have to be destroyed, won't he? You can't use him."

"What else can I do?" Marluxia asked, seeming almost to droop. "We can't leave him alive, not with all he knows."

"Don't worry," Zexion said. "Concentrate. You can defeat him, but don't underestimate his power. The Keyblade gives him strength we can only dream of."

"I will destroy him," XI declared. "And then we will leave. We can forget the things that happened, forget the Organization. We can be free."

"I will deal with Riku," the Schemer replied, a mirthless smile twisting his lips. "I owe him for taking Lexaeus from me."

"Be careful," advised Marluxia. "If he killed V, he must be at least as strong as Sora. And Axel is missing."

Before Zexion could answer this, a Dusk appeared from a portal and gave its silent report.

"Larxene is gone," Marluxia repeated, once it had vanished. He took a deep breath. "I should be going."

Zexion's fingers brushed his face, turning him to look down at the smaller man again. Marluxia closed his eyes, letting Zexion into his mind. The Schemer's presence was calming, soothing his jangling nerves, relaxing him, preparing him to face the Key-bearer.

_We'll see each other again_, Zexion whispered in his mind. _I promise you that, with all of my soul._

Marluxia shuddered as Zexion drew out of him.

"We'll make it through this," he sword. "And then we'll get our hearts back, somehow, without Xemnas… and I'll love you with every bit of me."

The Schemer nodded and turned away to form a portal. Marluxia gripped his arm and pulled him around, leaning down for a last hungry kiss. Zexion's fingers curled in his coat, and Marluxia stroked his silvery-blue hair, taking in as much of his lover's taste as possible. He wanted to be able to remember this.

Zexion's breath was warm on his lips as they broke apart.

"This isn't goodbye," he whispered.

"No," Marluxia agreed. "It can't be. I won't let it be."

He released Zexion, who lingered against him for another moment before reluctantly drawing back and opening a portal.

"Live," he murmured, gazing into the Assassin's eyes.

"I will," Marluxia returned, and Zexion entered the darkness.

* * *

There wasn't much time to think during the battle. Marluxia fought on instinct, letting his well-trained muscles carry him through the attacks and parries. He dwelled not on Sora, but on the taste of honey lingering on his tongue, the memory of a small form in his arms.

"Live," he whispered over the singing of his scythe. "Zexion."

He repeated it over and over, adopting his lover's name as a good luck charm. He sank into the pattern of battle, his eyes half-shut.

The bite of the Keyblade made his eyes fly wide in shock. He registered the taste of blood overpowering the remnants of honey. He stared down at the Keyblade in his chest with a detached sort of amazement.

"No," he murmured as Sora leapt back, ready for a counterattack. None would come. "It can't… I won't let…"

He was fading. Tendrils of darkness were rising in little wisps from the parts of him he could see.

"I'm sorry, Zexion…" he gasped, staring. "I didn't… live…"

Darkness.

* * *

When the castle itself seemed to shriek and writhe in agony, Zexion knew he was gone.

_Then I… I am safe from Xemnas,_ was his first though, as practical as ever.

_At such a price?_ his second thoughts cried at him, and the hollow recollection of anger tore through him. There was no time to grieve, not now, not while he could still take his revenge.

It was easier than a thought to lure Riku into a world of his own creation.

_Sora. You killed my love… so I will kill yours._

He didn't even think to correct himself. It was far too late for that.

_Even if we do get our hearts back… what will I have left? Without Even? Without Elaeus?_

_Without ever having met Aramuil?_

* * *

Somehow… it was easier to fade knowing that he would see Aramuil waiting for him.

* * *

-end

* * *

**A/N: **Whoo. The last line gave me chills.

Thank you to anyone who's made it this far, especially those of you who've reviewed like... every chapter. You're the best. I love reviews... don't we all?

I've received some reports of people liking MarZex who hadn't before. That makes me feel good. Very, very good. 8D MUAHAHA, I WILL CONVERT YOU ALL!!!

Since it's become a tradition for this story, I will say it once more:

REVIEW OR MARLUXIA'S AND ZEXION'S GHOSTS WILL HAUNT YOU FOREVER!


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